Beautiful Nightmare
by XoMargueriteoX
Summary: With no where to go and no one to help her, Christine turns to the one person that will accept her no matter what. But will one night change her life forever, or uncover feelings she didn't know existed? ExC ExM RxC RxM. ALW movie-based.
1. Through Fire and Flames

"Raoul, we have to go back," Christine said, planting her feet firmly on the cold stone floors of the underground prison. "Sitting around when you _know_ someone is about to be murdered, is just as bad as doing the crime yourself,"

"Well, maybe being a murderer of the like of _him_ isn't a crime at all," Raoul retorted. "Come, Christine. We must hurry." He grabbed her arm and succeeded in pulling her a few more inches through the stone labyrinth.

"Raoul!" she said, wrenching her arm out of his grasp. "How could you say that? As horrible as he may seem, he's still a person." Raoul gaped at her in disbelief.

"Christine, he just nearly murdered me!" he said. "He was about to sentence you to a life of unending _hell_, and you're defending him?"

"But he _didn't_," Christine retorted back sharply. "He let us go. God only knows why, but he did."

"Oh, I can surely guess why," Raoul said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. "Could it have nothing to do for his sick little admiration for you? The twisted lust that got us into this mess in the first place?" Christine lowered her head and looked at her feet.

"He loves me," she mumbled. He scoffed.

"Love? That's what he called it?" he snapped. "_I_ love you Christine. And I haven't caused you half the pain and despair he has."

"You've just never had to work as hard," Christine retorted. "But I'm sure if you loved me enough, and I feared and appalled you as I do him, you would go through whatever it takes." Raoul sighed impatiently.

"There really isn't time to be discussing this," Raoul pleaded. He saw the flash of pain in Christine's eyes, which she quickly hid. He hated seeing her upset, but sometimes it was for her own good.

"You're right," she agreed softly. She let him lead her from the dungeons without a backward glance.

They soon emerged into Christine's room from behind the mirror. Or perhaps, what was left of it. Mostly everything was black and charcoaled, and the entire room was filled with smoke. Christine coughed and tried to suck oxygen into her lungs.

"Raoul…" she choked.

"It's okay," he said, sounding like he was reassuring himself. "I'll get us out of this building, come quickly." He yanked on her arm and pulled her out of the room into the hallway, only to be met with more smoke and fire.

"I can't see, Raoul!" Christine said, her voice high with panic. Raoul contemplated which way was the way out. He turned to the left. Suddenly there was a creaking up above them.

"Look out!" Raoul yelled, pushing Christine away from him, right as the ceiling caved in, separating them.

"Raoul!" Christine yelled.

"Go, Christine! Get out of here!" he shouted back.

"No, I won't leave you!" she said, trying to dig her way through the burning drywall.

"I'll find my own way out, just go!" he yelled. She reluctantly turned around and ran down the corridor.

She kept running, but she seemed to be going in circles. She was getting absolutely no where, and the fact that she couldn't see didn't help anything. Her breaths came out short and raspy, and soon white spots started to appear in front of her eyes. She kept moving, now running for her life to find a way out. Soon, she felt her legs wobble underneath her, and she dropped to her knees.

_Lord, _she prayed. _Please let mine be the only death tonight_.

Her prayer wasn't only for Raoul and everyone else caught in the fire, but also for _him_.

The white spots got bigger, and she leaned against the wall, preparing to die.

Suddenly, she felt strong arms wrap around her and lift her up. She couldn't see who it was.

"Raoul?" she said with her last, raspy breath; before the white spots completely took over her vision.

Then everything was gone.

* * *

Christine's eyes slowly fluttered open. She was lying down on a cold stone floor. She quickly stood up and looked around. She was in a stone corridor with torches lining the walls. There was no sign of whoever brought her here. She started walking and made her way up the corridor.

Suddenly, there was a gust of wind from nowhere, and all of the torches blew out. Christine gasped and clung to the wall, so that she could feel her way around.

"_Wandering child, so lost, so helpless, yearning for my guidance!_"

The booming voice echoed around the corridor. A flood of emotions went through Christine at the sound of that voice; of _his_ voice. At first, she thought she was dead, and had joined him in hell.

"_Angel, oh speak, what endless longings, echo in this whisper,_" Christine bellowed back in reply. The disembodied voice laughed.

"Is that so?" it questioned sarcastically.

"Erik," Christine breathed in relief. "You're alive."

"Disappointed?" a voice replied right in her ear. She jumped slightly.

"Of course not," she replied sharply. "Just… surprised."

The torch closest to them burst into flame.

"You underestimate me," he replied impassively. "I've gotten past those fools many times before." Christine turned around. Their faces were mere inches apart. The light only reflected the unscarred side of his face, and his eyes bore directly into hers. Her breath caught in her throat, and she took a slight step back.

"Where are we?" Christine asked, looking around.

"One of my many secret passageways," Erik replied, still showing no expression. Christine shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.

"Oh," she said. "Why here, of all places?"

"The mob is still invading my home," Erik said irritably. "We cannot return until they are gone."

"We?" Christine said, a sudden panic rising in her voice. "No I… I can't stay here. I have to go." She took a few steps back, before she started running down the hallway, not really expecting to get very far, but trying nonetheless. Erik suddenly appeared in front of her, grabbing her wrists.

"There's nothing to return to. The building is engulfed in flames," he said thickly.

"But Raoul…" she started.

"Is dead," Erik finished.

"I don't believe you," she said, hoping, _praying_ it wasn't true.

"It's impossible that he could've survived the fire," Erik said; horribly convincing.

"I did," Christine argued. "Nothing's impossible."

"You survived because I saved you," he retorted.

"And why did you?" she snapped. Then softer, "I broke your heart. Why would you want to save me?"

Erik didn't say anything, and remained unreadable. Christine was starting to get annoyed at his lack of expression.

Finally, he answered. "Any pain you caused me would be much less painful then the horror of seeing you dead."

"Erik…" she sighed. She reached out, as if to touch his face, but thought better of it and abruptly put it back down.

Erik covered up the awkward moment by saying, "So, _mon amour_, shall we go see if the idiots have abandoned my sanctuary?"

She flinched at his momentary declaration of love, knowing that she didn't deserve it after the pain she'd caused him. But she nodded in agreement. He took her hand and led her through the now-dark passageways. They stopped outside of a frame of broken glass, covered by a red drape. Erik pressed his finger to his lips, signaling for her not to make a noise. She listened intently, but didn't hear anything on the other side of the dark red curtain.

"I don't think…" she whispered, but Erik abruptly silenced her again.

"He's not here," Christine suddenly heard the familiar voice of Meg Giry call. "He left this. He must have escaped." Christine couldn't see her, but had a hunch that the object Meg was referring to was Erik's mask.

"Well, where could he have gone?" one of the guards replied in awe.

"He has many hidden passageways around this place," Meg replied. "Not that it matters. I'd expect he's too ashamed to ever come back, anyways." Erik growled beside her.

"And if he does?" Another officer questioned.

"We kill 'im!" someone else replied. A chorus of _yeah_'s echoed around the chamber. Erik scoffed.

"I'd like to see them try," he said; his voice almost inaudible to Christine, who was standing merely an inch from him.

Theirs footsteps started to get further away as they left the chamber. Finally, they disappeared completely.

Erik still didn't move for about three minutes. He was listening intently. Finally, he said, "Come." And they entered the room.

Christine never expected to return to this place. Especially not merely twenty minutes later. She really did not want to be in this situation; not down in this cold, dank cellar; not with _him_. She was like Persephone, dragged against her will into the underworld by Hades. But he was right in saying she had nowhere else to go. Her home was gone, Raoul... she didn't even want to think about it. Her last resort would've been to stay with Meg Giry and her mother, but they could be anywhere. She silently cursed at her own stupidity. Why hadn't she called out to Meg when she was standing here moments ago? She sighed out loud.

"Is there a problem, my dear?" Erik asked politely.

"Oh, _heavens_ no," Christine said, sarcasm dripping from her voice. He raised his eyebrows in amusement.

"Please do enlighten me," he said. Christine scowled.

"Do you _really_ think I want to be here?" Christine asked. "I just escaped this damned place! This was all part of your plan, wasn't it? To _pretend_ like you were letting me go, to seem like a good person; just to kidnap me again ten minutes later!" He was quiet for a moment.

"That was not at all my plan," he said simply. She groaned.

"Well, you got your way, regardless," she mumbled. "I'll stay here, simply because I have no where else to go."

"My apologies, I didn't realize staying here would be so excruciatingly painful," Erik said thickly. "This time, I'm not taking you away from anything or threatening to murder anyone, so I don't see a problem."

"No, Erik, you're not taking me away from anything," Christine said. "Because there's nothing else to take me from. You made sure of that."

Before he could reply, she turned around and ran away, shutting herself in one of the many rooms. She slid down the door until she was sitting down. She hugged her knees into her chest. Tears started leaking down her cheeks as she thought of Raoul, who she _should_ be getting married to in a few days time.

And now, dead or not, she would probably never see the man she loved again.

* * *

**AN: Hope everyone liked it! I wasn't planning on making this a fanfic, I just started writing down what was on my mind. And in my opinion, I think it's too good to just delete, so I'm posting it here! Hope you like!**

**P.S. If you haven't figured it out, Erik's "declaration of love" is him calling her **_**Mon Amour**_**, which means **_**My Love**_** in French.**


	2. Do You Remember?

Raoul cussed as he slammed into yet another wall. He couldn't see anything through the thick layers of smoke. He turned around and started running in the opposite direction.

"Damn!" he muttered as he slammed into a wall, yet again. Observing it more closely, he saw that it wasn't a wall at all, but a window. He slowly backed up a few feet, before running and slamming all of his weight into the glass. It shattered beneath his shoulder, and he fell down into the street a story below. He ignored the pain and forced himself up.

"Help!" he shouted to the passing bystanders. "By God, somebody call for help! My fiancé's in there!"

No one seemed to have time to listen to what the filthy, soot-covered man was saying. They all just walked past without giving him a thought. Eventually, he grabbed onto the jacket of a man walking by.

"Where's the nearest police station?" he demanded.

"R-right down the road!" the man stuttered. Raoul shoved him away, and ran as fast as his injured legs would take him. Eventually, he burst into the police station.

"There's a fire at the Opera Populaire," Raoul gasped, his lungs feeling as if they were tearing out of his chest. Without another word, he blacked out and fell to the floor.

* * *

Erik paced back and forth across the chamber, waiting for Christine to come out. He sighed with impatience, sitting on the bench of his organ. What did she want from him? He was allowing her to stay with him for _her_ sake, so why must she constantly make him feel as if he's committed a terrible crime? He rubbed his hand over the rough, distorted side of his face. _This is why_, he thought. How could someone with a face so horribly disturbing be a good person? He wished now more than ever that he had his mask; and that it wasn't in the hands of young Marguerite Giry.

He groaned and stood up, making his way to the door Christine had entered earlier, which happened to be his room. He knocked on the door.

She was quiet for a few moments, before slowly opening the door. Her eyes were red and blotchy, and his heart sank as he realized she'd been crying.

"Christine, I- "

"I'm sorry," she cut him off. He raised his eyebrows. Why was _she_ sorry? "I… haven't treated you very fairly. I'm taking the misfortunes of my life out on you, and it's not your fault." Erik sighed.

"You don't have to apologize," he said. "It _is_ my fault that all of this happened. _I_ cut down the chandelier. _I_ started the fire that killed… all of those people." He was originally going to say "that killed your lover", but changed it after seeing the pained look in her eyes.

"Well… I forgive you," she said. He smiled genuinely.

They exchanged a few moments of silence.

"Do you ever miss the days you were just my angel of music?" Christine suddenly asked. "Before any of the heartache, before I even knew the meaning of love?"

"More than anything," Erik replied truthfully. He missed the days when Christine thought of him as a gift from heaven, not a monster from hell. How very innocent they were! He missed seeing Christine as nothing but a young pupil with a beautiful voice. But those days were long gone. They would never be the same toward each other again.

"Sing with me," she encouraged, pulling him toward his organ. He stared at her, caught off guard by her command, but sat down on his bench and placed his fingers on the keys. Christine took a deep breath and began to sing.

_L'amour est un oiseau rebelle  
Que nul ne peut apprivoiser,  
Et c'est bien in vain qu'on l'appelle  
S'il lui convient de refuser._

_Rien n'y fait, menace ou prière.  
L'un parle bien, l'autre se tait.  
Et c'est l'autre que je préfère.  
Il n'a rien dit mais il me plait._

_L'amour! L'amour! L'amour! L'amour!_

_L'amour est enfant de Bohême,  
Il n'a jamais jamais connu de loi.  
Si tou ne m'aimes pas, je t'aime.  
Si je t'aime, prends garde à toi!_

_Si tou ne m'aimes pas, si tou ne m'aimes pas, je t'aime,  
Mais si je t'aime, si je t'aime, prends garde à toi!_

_L'oiseau que tu croyais surprendere  
Battit d'aile et s'envola.  
L'amour est loin, tu peux l'attendre.  
Tu ne l'attends pas, il est là._

_Tout atour de toi, vite vite,  
Il vient, s'en va, puis il revient.  
Tu crois le tenir, il t'evite.  
Tu crois l'eviter, il te tient._

_L'amour! L'amour! L'amour! L'amour!_

_L'amour est enfant de Bohême,  
Il n'a jamais jamais connu de loi.  
Si tou ne m'aimes, je t'aime.  
Si je t'aime, prends garde à toi!_

_Si tou ne m'aimes pas, si tou ne m'aimes pas, je t'aime,  
Mais si je t'aime, si je t'aime, prends garde à toi!_

Erik could not get used to the beauty and passion brought forth in Christine's voice. His fingers slowly came to a stop across the keys. Christine had her eyes closed, completely indulged in her music. She slowly opened them to look at Erik, her eyes filled with tears that had not yet escaped her lid. They stared at each other silently.

"Any comments, monsieur?" Christine asked; as if he were still her teacher, still her angel. Erik smiled genuinely.

"It was… excellent," Erik said. "Only one incorrect lyric_… Si tou ne m'aimes, je t'aime _is actually _Si tou ne m'aimes _pas_ je t'aime_."

Love me not, I still love you. Those lyrics described him and Christine perfectly.

"My apologies, monsieur, it's been a while since I've heard the song," she replied. A comfortable silence passed between them.

"Are you hungry?" Erik asked her. She nodded and placed a hand on her stomach. He realized she probably hadn't eaten since long before _Don Juan_, nearly nine hours ago. He also realized she must be tired, since it was one o' clock in the morning. He wasn't used to taking care of people other than himself.

"Well… I have some bread… and…" he started awkwardly.

"Erik?" Christine questioned.

"Yes?" he replied, still racking through his mind what she might like to eat.

"What do _you_ usually eat?" she asked politely. He blushed.

"Well… I usually… _borrow_ food from the chef upstairs," he replied. She chuckled.

"Well, one more night of… uh… _borrowing_, won't hurt anything, will it?" she asked innocently.

"I would think not," Erik replied, slightly surprised at her acceptance to his crime, before heading through another one of his passageways to the world above.

* * *

Christine watched as he went through the secret door, making a silent reminder to go shopping for food the first chance she had.

She walked toward a small icebox in the corner and looked through it. There was some wine, a few bottles of a red mixture of some sort, and some bread. You'd think that with twenty-five thousand francs a month, he'd be able to afford more decent food.

She curiously picked out one of the red bottles. She observed it curiously. It looked amazingly like Carlotta's throat spray…

She laughed out loud at the memory of Carlotta croaking like a toad. Now she knew the cause was _not_ from loss of voice. She stopped laughing, feeling rather foolish, and place the bottle back into the icebox.

Christine tumbled ungracefully toward the swan bed she had once slept in. The weight of drowsiness had finally come down upon her. _Just one moment of shut eye_, she thought. _He'll wake me when he comes back_…

She plopped down on the bed, and was asleep the second her head hit the pillow.

* * *

_Raoul was dangling off the edge of a cliff, screaming for Christine to come to his aid. Christine ran as fast as she could, but it felt like heavy weights were attached to her legs. She kept running, but the cliff kept seeming farther and farther away…_

_Finally, she was a few feet away from Raoul. So close…_

_But a strange, dark figure got there before her. He ran over to Raoul, and instead of saving him, shoved him down; down toward his violent and tragic death._

_The figure turned around to face her, and in the place of a head, it instead had only a glowing white mask._

* * *

**A.N.: Sorry this is kind of a pointless chapter, I just kind of needed a bridge toward what needs to happen. I promised I'll update a better chapter soon! This story gets a lotta more interesting…**

**Oh yeah, the song is called **_**Habenera**_** and is in French. The English lyrics are here: classical music(dot)about(dot)com/od/ opera/ qt/ habanera lyrics(dot)htm**

**And a video of it is here: www(dot) youtube(dot)com/watch ?v =pJLyZqETuBU**

**I don't know about you, but I can totally see Christine singing this song.**

**PLEASE REVIEW!!!!!!! Raoul bashing is encouraged!**


	3. Dead or Alive

_One can not truly experience the beauty of love__without enduring the pain__that comes with it once it is lost._

* * *

Three weeks.

For three weeks he looked, he waited, he failed.

Raoul returned to the opera house three times a day for those three weeks, waiting to see if Christine would somehow be there. The days he wasn't walking mindlessly amongst the rubble, he was at the police station, seeing if they'd identified any of the deceased bodies as Christine's, hoping they never would

And it wasn't until the third week that he made any progress. And the results he got made him wish he hadn't.

"Vicomte, we have some new regarding Mademoiselle Daae," one of the officers informed. Raoul sprang up from his seat.

"Yes?" he encouraged impatiently. The man shifted uncomfortably.

"Well, we uncovered one of the bodies… and with it… was this. It has _Christine _etched on the back… so we thought…" he said nervously. Raoul snatched the diamond ring out of the man's hands; recognizing it as the ring he had given Christine many weeks ago. Raoul groaned in despair.

"Would that belong to your fiancé, then?" the officer asked nervously. Raoul didn't reply, but instead turned around and ran out the doors. His vision was blurred with tears as he ran down the streets; not caring where he went, not caring about anything.

Christine was dead.

He eventually tripped over a patch of dirt on to the grass, where he lay crying, not at all desiring ever getting up.

He could've saved her. If he would've just gone the other way during the fire, the wall wouldn't have separated. She would still be with him.

But he didn't. It was his fault. He had killed the woman he loved.

* * *

The next morning, Christine awoke to the smell of burning oats. She quickly got out of bed and walked over to Erik's large gas stove. On it was a large copper pot, filled with burned, hard porridge. She quickly turned off the gas.

"Erik?" she called. He didn't seem to be there. Why would he begin to make food, and then leave while it was still cooking? She scooped the molten brick of porridge into the waste basket, slightly regretting the fact that it was ruined, for she was still hungry from not having eaten the night before. She grabbed a piece of stale bread and slowly nibbled on it.

Before she had finished the hard lump of bread, Erik returned suddenly.

"And where have you been?" Christine asked. Erik looked confusedly at the bread she was eating.

"I was attending to some… matters," Erik replied hesitantly. "Did you not see that I made you breakfast?" Christine raised her eyebrows.

"Erik, you left that cooking on the stove," Christine said.

"Yes," Erik replied. "I was making it so that you weren't hungry when you awoke."

"Erik you… you _do_ know that you have to look over the food, and take it off when it's done, right?" Christine asked. "Or else, it burns. Surely you must know that."

"Are you suggesting that I just sit there and watch it?" Erik said. "That sounds terribly time consuming."

Christine stared at him for a moment, before a fit of giggles exploded from her. Erik looked at her blankly, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"_What_ is so funny?" Erik demanded. Christine tried to stifle her hysterics. It felt good, she hadn't laughed for a long time.

"I think that you should allow me to do the cooking from now on," Christine said. "On the subject of food, I would like to go shopping so that I don't starve."

"Wait," Erik said abruptly. "I… I don't think that's such a good idea. Allow me to go."

"Well, I would like to get out into the sun. I've been down here for a few weeks without going up once," Christine said. "What's the problem?"

"I…" Erik started nervously. "Alright, you can go on one condition." Christine raised her eyebrows angrily.

"_Condition_? I wasn't aware that I was your prisoner here!" she snapped angrily. "I am certainly welcome to come and go as I please."

"Christine, I did not intend it to sound like that," he replied defensively. "I guess what I mean is, I would like a _favor_."

"Well, what is it?" Christine said, still a little sharply.

"A promise," Erik said. "Promise that you'll come back when you're done, and won't go running off." Christine's face softened.

"Why would you even be worried about such a thing?" she asked, as if it were the most ridiculous thing in the world.

"I'm… I'm not strong enough for you to leave me again," Erik said. "I don't think I'd be able to survive if you deserted me for a second time." Christine looked at him solemnly.

"Yes," Christine said finally. When Erik shot her a confused glance, she specified, "I promise."

* * *

"Maman, we're out of bread!" Meg Giry called upstairs to her mother, looking around their house for something to eat and realizing that she hadn't been to the market for quite some time.

After the fire, Meg and her mother had rented a very small cottage in the outskirts of town, where they currently resided in. Meg hadn't seen anyone from the opera house since the calamity.

Madame Giry came downstairs and handed Meg a small coin purse.

"Go to the market and buy a few things," Madame Giry said. Meg grabbed the purse out of her hand.

"Of course, maman," she said, then under her breath, "how nice of you to say 'please' and 'thank you'."

She walked out the door into the warm late march air, staying in the shadows. She often tended to attract hoodlums and criminals when out in the streets of the poor area of town.

She turned a corner and arrived at a small outdoor market. She pushed her way through the large crowd of people, trying to get inside.

While trying to get through, she ran into someone, who toppled backward onto the ground. Meg covered her mouth with her hands.

"I- oh lord, I am so sorry!" Meg said apologetically. The reached her hand out to help the woman in the red cloak. The woman took her hand and stood up, allowing Meg to see her face. She gasped.

"Christine!" she shouted, throwing her arms around her.

"Wha… Meg? Oh, thank God," Christine said in relief. "You're okay." Meg pulled back to look at her.

"I should say the same to you," she said. "I was so worried Christine... I knew the Phantom captured you, but when I got there you were gone…"

"Yes, a lot has happened," Christine said. And she went into the story of where she'd been all month. She told of escaping, then of almost dying in the fire, then ending up with the Phantom again, where she'd been staying ever since, simply because she had no where else to go.

"Oh, Christine, you don't have to stay with him anymore!" Meg said cheerily. "Maman and I will gladly take you in!"

Christine stared at her for a few moments without speaking, and Meg had a sudden, sinking feeling that Christine might possibly say no.

"I… I need to sort some things out first," Christine said. "But tomorrow I'll meet you, same time, same place."

* * *

**Okay, so Raoul thinks Christine's dead; Erik turned from murderer to softie in a few weeks; and now… Christine is leaving? Why is Meg Giry even involved in this? Told you it would get more interesting…**

**Please review! If you do, I'll have Erik bring you a cookie to your doorstep! =)**


	4. Unsuccessful

Raoul tried, he really did.

He attempted to think of ways Christine could still be alive. But he just couldn't. The police had found her body, wearing the ring; wearing _his_ ring. The ring that, for a short interval of time, had forcefully engaged her to another man.

Raoul picked up his wine glass and threw it at the parallel wall, watching it shatter and erupt in an explosion of dark liquid and glass. That man, that… _creature _that stole Christine from him. If it wasn't for him, none of this would've happened. Christine would still be alive. They would be married, living happily in together in his manor. But _Erik_ had crushed everything they had going for them. He cussed loudly and flopped back down on the couch.

One day, he would make that accursed phantom pay for what he'd done.

* * *

Erik watched Christine as she paced back and forth, nervously ringing her hands and furrowing her brow, as if she was trying to make a decision. He sat and watched, not saying anything, waiting for her to come to him with whatever was troubling her.

She sighed and sat down beside Erik on his organ bench, but sitting as far from him as possible.

"I just want you to know that… I don't hate you," Christine said quietly. Erik stared at her confusedly.

"Christine, I beg you, tell me what's going on," Erik pleaded impatiently. Christine stood up and abruptly turned away from him.

"Erik, it was inevitable," Christine said, still stalling from what she wanted to say. "I can't live here forever… in this underground kingdom of… horrid darkness. I have to go. I'm leaving."

Erik didn't speak for a moment, just looked at his lap. Christine, no matter how unintentionally, somehow managed to shatter his heart into a million pieces over and over again. He eventually breathed a deep sigh.

"Christine…" he started, wondering how to phrase how much he loved and needed her, needed her to stay with him. How much he needed her to love him. "…Please."

He could hear her sniffling beside him, and knew that she had begun to cry. He turned to face her.

"Please _what_, Erik? What do you want from me?" she choked out. He just continued to stare at her pleadingly. "Do you want me to stay? To live down here, in this dark, cold lair with you forever? Because I _can't_, Erik! I can't do _this_!" She was full out sobbing now, and her words broke every time she raised her voice at him. Erik still didn't speak. He just slowly and instinctively lifted his hand up to the right side of his face.

"Erik, stop," Christine suddenly said harshly. "It's not because of that. You _know_ it's not."

That wasn't what he was thinking of. He knew she wasn't leaving out of disgust or fear. Yet her leaving _did_ have something to do with his atrocity. Ever since his mask was removed during _Don Juan_, his protective barrier had been lifted. He was now a weak, pitied, heartbroken monster. He no longer was fearsome, and had no control over anything or anyone. If he wasn't this vulnerable, Christine wouldn't even think about leaving him.

"When?" Erik finally said in a monotone. "When are you leaving?"

"Tomorrow morning," she said quietly. He nodded, a plan unfolding in his head.

"You should get to sleep," he instructed, gesturing toward the swan bed. She nodded, walking over and lowering the curtain.

Erik waited about an hour, until he was sure she was asleep. After that, his plan begun.

He walked slowly over to his organ, sadly gliding his hand across the keys one last time. _It's for her_, he told himself. _Do it for her._

Slowly, one by one, he ripped the keys from his beautiful instrument, pain tearing at his heart each time.

As quietly and quickly as he could, he pummeled and ground the ivory keys until they were the consistency of flour. Then, gathering it up, combined it with a mixture of cement. Finally, he molded the mixture into the shape of a mask, almost identical to his old one. It would never be the same, never pure ivory like his old one that he'd had since childhood, but you could never tell this difference by looking at it. He placed it on his face once more, adding his wig and his black cape. Christine would see that he was no different, that he was the same phantom she'd met many months ago.

* * *

That morning, Christine silently packed her things, hoping to not see Erik at all before leaving. It would be too hard to see the pained look in his eyes. She opened the drapes around the bed and walked out, heading toward the vast, glassy lake. Looking around for the gondola, she eventually realized Erik must have gone somewhere, taking it with him.

She turned around and walked toward the broken mirror passageway. She lifted the curtain, only to see that the broken mirror was no longer broken, it was just a regular mirror. She furrowed her brow in confusion. Suddenly, Erik seemingly materialized behind her in the mirror. She jumped, not just in surprise, but confusion. She hadn't recognized him with his mask on.

"I thought it was about time to get that fixed," he breathed in her ear.

"Erik," she replied bluntly. He nodded his greeting. "Where's the gondola?"

"I have put it away, where I could easily have access to if necessary," he replied, turning around and walking toward the lake, her following behind.

"Well… I should really get going soon," she said. "Did you have another way I could exit?" Erik smiled, but it didn't look genuinely happy. More so, it looked rather crazed.

"Christine, my dear, my apologies," Erik said, the wicked look still on his face. Christine slowly backed up, becoming slightly frightened. "But I don't think you will be leaving this morning."

"Erik…" Christine said slowly. "I don't…understand…"

"It is quite simple," Erik said, no longer smiling. "I have decided not to allow you to leave without my permission." Christine' eyes flashed.

"_Pardon_?" she snapped. "We have gone over this before, Erik! I have rights! I can leave whenever I'd like!" Erik stepped toward her.

"_Good luck_," he whispered in her ear, ghosting his fingers down her sides. She shivered and shoved him away. She stared at him for a second, a fire burning deep within her eyes, before gripping his mask and flinging it to the ground, shattering it into a million pieces.

"_I have rights_!" She repeated, as angry as he had ever seen her. "Do _not_ touch me again without my permission!" He remained expressionless and unmoving. She stared at him, waiting for his reaction.

Very suddenly, his face contorted into a twist of rage. He brought up his hand, and before she could stop him, slapped her hard across the face.

Her head flung to the side with the force, and she kept it there, afraid to turn and look at him, afraid he'd hit her again. She very slowly turned to face him, shock, anger, and fear all etched across her face. Erik was looking at her with wide eyes, looking regretful and pained. But she didn't care. She slowly backed away, whimpering. He stepped forward and reached out toward her, but she turned and ran as fast as she could out into the lake, clothes and all. Once she reached the portcullis, she banged on it as hard as she could, needing to get out of that horrid cave of despair.

"Christine!" she heard Erik calling from the other side of the lake, but she ignored him.

"I need to get out of here!" she repeated over and over. "Need to… help me! Somebody!"

Her knuckles started to bleed with her efforts, but it was no use. She was getting nowhere. But she continued to bang and claw and scream.

Suddenly, she felt arms around her waist try to drag her away. She kicked and punched at him.  
"_I… told…you…not…to…touch…me_!" she shrieked, but he ignored her. He was too strong for her efforts at escape, and she eventually became limp.

Once they got to the bank, he held her up against the wall as she once again started to struggle in an attempt to break free.

"Hush," he cooed. "Calm down, my angel."

She slowed down, but still continued to struggle slightly.

"Christine…" he said, his body racking with sobs. "I'm so sorry… I don't know what came over me…"

His voice cracked and he stopped talking, sobbing into her soft, blonde hair (A.N.: did I mention her appearance was Leroux-based?). She took heavy, deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself down.

"You… you hit me," she whispered. Erik's body shook harder with sobs. "But I…I shouldn't have… I'm sorry … I broke your mask."

"That was… n-not a reasonable excuse to… to _abuse_ you," he murmured. She slowly wrapped her arms around his trembling figure.

She started singing softly the first song that entered her mind.

_In all my fantasies, I always knew,_

_The man and mystery, were both in you,_

_And in this labyrinth where night is blind,_

_The Phantom of the Opera is there, inside my mind._

By now, Erik had regained composure of himself. He stroked her cheek softly. They stared at each other for a few moments before she slowly removed herself from him. He slumped slightly from the loss, and turned to face her.

"I should be… getting to sleep," she said, slightly embarrassed by the previous events. He nodded slightly in her direction. She sighed, heaving her shoulders. "You don't mean anything different to me without your mask, Erik. You're still the same person." And with that, she turned and went into one of the many rooms.

Sometimes, it was as if she could read his mind. How could she not see that they were meant to be? He sighed. That damnable woman. He loved her so much.

* * *

**Okay, that was a bit of a dramatic chapter… but it was kind of necessary. Christine just couldn't leave! SHE COULDN'T!!! …eh em. Excuse my outburst. Anywho… sorry about that little change in POV from Christine to Erik at the end there… I try to avoid that as much as possible. You thought this chapter was good? KEEP READING!!! It gets even…. BETTER!!!!!!!!! YAYAYAYAYYAY!!!! …woops. Sorry. Forgot to take my ADD pills today. …bye now. LOVE YOU!!!!!!!!!!**


	5. Selfless

Meg pace furiously back and forth around the market, still awaiting Christine, even after two hours. Where in the world could she be? She had promised, same time, same place. If Meg wasn't so frightened, she would go search for Christine at the opera house, but, well, she _was_ that frightened. The opera ghost was still on the large, and her being the head of the search party meant to find and murder him… wouldn't exactly put them on good terms. She sighed exasperatedly and headed reluctantly back down the road toward her home. As always, she stayed in the shadows and took as many alley shortcuts as possible.

While walking through one alley, merely feet from her doorstep, she heard a voice echo around her.

"_Marguerite Giry_," it said, the tone… _ghostly_. She gasped, and started to run toward the other end. A figure in a black cloak got there before her. It was dark, and she couldn't see his face, but somehow she knew. She knew it was _him_.

"I…I have mace!" she warned lamely, fishing through her pockets for it and realizing it was in her bag at home.

"Christine Daae will not be returning to you," he informed simply. "Do not attempt to look for her."

And with a swish of his cape, he was gone.

She felt a twang of fear and curiosity. The opera ghost had never directly addressed her before. Nor had she ever seen him. Or heard him. Oh, except for when he killed Piangi and took over his part of Don Juan. But that was all.

And now he had Christine; had kidnapped her yet _again_.

Oh Christine…

0…0…0

The next morning, Erik awoke to find a mask beside his bed. It looked misshapen, and appeared to be glued back together. He picked it up and sighed, realizing Christine must have attempted to put it back together for him. It was in no way wearable… but it was the thought that made his heart flutter. He delicately set it back down and walked from his room, out to where Christine was in the kitchen, cooking. She turned around upon hearing his footsteps, and then, seeing him only in an open white shirt and short trousers (A.N.: Old fashioned word for boxers…?), turned away and blushed. Erik pretended like he didn't notice this, and walked up to her.

"There's milk and bread on the table… and, here," she handed him a plate of eggs.

"Thank you," he mumbled before going to sit down. He noticed Christine was mindlessly flipping the eggs, seeing to be concerned with something else.

"Christine…" he said, but she seemingly didn't hear him and kept staring into space. "Christine!"

She turned around and looked at him, jumping slightly. He gestured toward the pan in front of her, and she jumped again when she saw black smoke coming up. She quickly shut off the gas and sighed.

"Is something on your mind?" Erik asked her. She glared at him.

"Not at _all_," she said sarcastically. "Oh, well maybe just one _little_ thing; the fact that you're holding me hostage here!"

Erik remained expressionless.

"Well, perhaps it would be easier if you weren't constantly establishing fights between us," he said calmly. She blinked and then took a deep breath.

"You're right," she said. "I should try to be more… positive." Erik nodded. Christine awkwardly smoothed out her skirt. She took a deep breath and looked up at him.

Suddenly, he watched her face crumble as she burst into tears, and ashamedly ran into an adjacent room. Erik sat there for a few moments, unmoving. He put his head in his hands. Damn him for being such a selfish fool. Could he not see the pain he was causing her?

_Turn cold and turn to tears of hate! It's in your soul where the true distortion lies. Pitiful creature of darkness. So distorted, deformed it was hardly a face. You deceived me. Have you gorged yourself at last in your lust for blood? Goodbye, fallen idol and false friend. Those eyes that burn. He kills without a thought, he murders all that's good. The phantom of the opera will kill and kill again. Look Raoul, your future bride. We had such hopes. Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime. I love you, Raoul. Raoul. Raoul. Raoul._

Erik shook his head free of the terrible words Christine had previously said. The words that had caused him more pain than any he could possibly be causing her. So in a way, she deserved what she was getting, right?

He sighed. Of course she didn't.

0…..0…..0

Christine looked at herself in the mirror, taking deep breaths and concentrating very hard on not crying anymore. She didn't want to cry anymore.

It wasn't until she heard the angelic voice floating in from the lair did she smile. She hadn't heard him sing for quite a while, and she missed it.

_Slowly, gently, night unfurls its splendor. Grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender._

Christine walked out of the room, sat next to him and added the next verse.

_Open up your mind; let your fantasies unwind, in this darkness that you know you cannot fight…_

_The darkness of the music of the night._

He turned to look at her, a pain she couldn't understand disguised in his deep, green eyes (A.N. and _his_ appearance is ALW movie based. Sorry, but I love Gerick. *Gets stabbed by hundreds of phans*) He began to sing again.

_Let your mind start a journey to a strange new world, leave all thoughts of the life you knew before. Let your soul take you where you long to be!_

Christine had joined him on _be_, and they had harmonized the note together. The pain in his eyes had deepened.

_Floating, falling, sweet intox…_

"Stop. _Stop_," Erik said sternly, standing up and running his hands through his hair. Christine looked at him concernedly.

"What? What's wrong? Was I awful? I haven't warmed up my voice for a while…" Christine started embarrassedly.

"No, no, of course you were perfect, my dear," he said lamentably. "It's just… dear God…"

He paced back and forth, his eyes wide and half mad. Christine jumped up and grabbed his arms.

"Erik!" she said worriedly. "What's wrong? You don't look well; do you need to see a doctor?"

Erik laughed, but there was no joy in his eyes.

"No. No doctor," he said. He smiled gently at her, stoking her cheek and relaxing her furrowed brow. "I love you, Christine." She was incredibly confused and concerned, but went along with him.

"I know," she whispered. "I know you do." Tears started lightly rolling down his cheek.

"_Go_," he said suddenly and sharply. Christine jumped in surprise. He turned around, jerking his arms out of her grasp.

"P-pardon?" Christine asked, feeling slightly hurt.

"You heard me," he snapped. "Go Christine. Go find the Vicomte. Get married, have kids. Be… happy. Be happy." His body was racking with silent sobs. Christine stood stock still, momentarily considering turning and running as fast as she could, before he changed his mind. But she couldn't move.

Erik loved her. He loved her so much. He was an incredibly selfish person, but he'd actually put aside his own personal gain for her sake. That was something he'd only do for Christine, only do out of the most passionate and intense love, such as he felt for her. She didn't feel that way toward him… possibly not even toward Raoul.

She couldn't love him and she couldn't leave him. She sighed. Doing either one would make her life so much easier.

0…0…0

Erik didn't turn around. He didn't want to see her leave, he wouldn't be able to let her. That's why it irritated him to hear her footsteps coming _toward_ him.

"Christine," he growled. "_Go_. Please just go." But she disobeyed, and instead grabbed his shoulder and turned him around. He scowled.

"No goodbyes," he snapped. "Do you realize how hard this already is on me?" But she continued not to speak or show any expression.

She slowly stroked his scarred cheek, before lightly placing a kiss on it. He felt a shiver run through his body at the touch. She kissed his face multiple times, covering nearly everywhere on the right side of his face. He just sat there confusedly, not able to pull away or ask questions. When she was done, she drew back her head to stare at him with her beautiful blue eyes. They were glimmering and expressionless; or at least the expression was unknown to him. His breathing had gone ragged, and she reached up to touch his face again.

She slowly moved her face toward his, and his breath hitched as she pressed her lips against his.

His head was spinning. He didn't know what to think, he didn't know what to feel. Millions of questions were running through his head, but they were hazy, disguised by his own pleasure. He had only been kissed once before in his life, and somehow he was fortunate enough that both times had been from Christine.

Damn him. He'd started to cry.

When she pulled away, he did nothing but stare at her with wide eyes. She was smiling slightly, but she by no means looked happy. He was so very confused. What were her motives?

He didn't know what to say, so instead started to sing.

_Floating, falling, sweet intoxication._

_Touch me, trust me, savor each sensation…_

He was running his hands down her sides, and she was doing nothing to stop it. Well. Apparently he had permission. She turned around and looked him straight in the eyes.

_Help me make the music of the night…_

And he did.

0…0…0

**A/N: uh… yeah. I think you can guess what happens next…**

**I'M SORRY! I made Christine kind of… cough**_**slutty**_**cough. But I'll explain why she did it later. Please don't kill me or stop reading or anything. PLEASE!!!**

**Yeah. Well. I was looking at my traffic the other day… and was introduced to the fact that over 100 people read this fic a day.**

**SERIOUSLY?!?!?!?**

**All you people read it… and I only have ten comments!?!?!?!?!?**

**PLEASE REVIEW!!! I love you all =))**


	6. Change of Heart

That damn seductive woman.

What had she done to him? He knew it was wrong, that they shouldn't have done it. Yet, he had become weak; putty in her hands. She really overestimated his self-control.

He quickly got out of bed and got dressed, trying hard not to awake Christine. He quietly walked into the lair, silently cursing himself.

When had it seemed like a good idea to take her innocence? What right did he have? He angrily shoved over a candle stick, making quite a loud racket. He would probably wake Christine. He was beyond caring.

Christine would never forgive him. She would never look at him the same; never let him touch her…

It didn't matter that it was her fault. He would get the blame. And he deserved it.

۞۞۞

Christine didn't move when she felt him get up beside her. She'd been awake for hours, crying as silently as she could.

She was disgusted with herself. Everything was completely different and… wrong. There was no thought of leaving anymore, she couldn't. She'd given herself to Erik.

And now she was his.

Her pillow started to become freshly soaked as she no longer held back her sobs.

Why had she done it? How could it have possibly seemed like a good idea? She wasn't married to him; she didn't even love him! She was no longer an honest woman. She was unclean.

She sighed and slowly sat up on the edge of the bed. She wiped her eyes with her sleeve. When would all of this ridiculous crying stop? She took a deep breath and stood up, knowing she'd have to face him sometime.

She got a hold of herself and walked out of the bedroom. Erik was angrily stalking through the lair, knocking things over as he passed. He shoved a book of sheet music off of the organ, and Christine watched the papers flutter to the ground, before walking over and picking them up. Erik jumped slightly at her unexpected entrance. There were a few moments of silence.

"Taking it out on the lair won't solve anything," Christine finally said quietly, patting the sheets of music straight and setting them on the organ.

"Perhaps," Erik said coldly. More silence. He breathed a heavy sigh. "Christine… I'm so sor…"

"Stop," she said. "I would like to think last night never happened; in which case you have nothing to apologize for."

Erik didn't move. Christine had finally realized that sitting around crying and feeling sorry for herself didn't solve anything. It was time for her to make a stand.

She patiently waited for him to reply.

"I… completely agree," Erik said hesitantly. "It never happened." He didn't seem to love the agreement, but Christine chose to ignore the sour look on his face.

Christine nodded her approval, and then said cheerily, "So… breakfast?"

۞۞۞

**FIVE MONTHS LATER**

۞۞۞

For two of five months, the agreement worked out rather well.

Nothing had changed between the two, and after a month of so, they had forgotten the night altogether. The only difference was, Christine tried to subtly make sure that there was at least a three foot or so radius between her and Erik. He pretended he didn't notice. And he pretended he didn't care.

But after those two months… well, that's when Christine couldn't handle it anymore.

That morning, Erik woke up not knowing where she was. He looked in all of the room, searching under beds and in closets. He started to get slightly nervous; had she left him for good?

But his suspicions were stopped in their tracks when he walked into the lair and found her, even though he was sure he'd searched there multiple times prior. He quickly ran over to her, as she was lying on the ground, sobbing uncontrollably. When he grabbed her arm to try and help her up, she screamed and pulled out of his grasp, running into her room.

Erik didn't understand any of it, but he just knew that he was concerned, and also… curious. What had caused this sudden behavior?

He sighed. Multiple times he had tried to talk sense into her, only see her breakdown into another fit of sobs upon sight of him. He had even given up, and told her that, if she wished, he would take her back up to the surface and allow her to be free of him. During these cases, she would scowl at him and accuse of him of wanting to be rid of her. So she didn't want to be around him, and she didn't want to be without him. What did she want?

۞۞۞

Raoul walked absentmindedly down the street, lost in his thoughts. He was trying hard not to let his mind stray to what he was attempting to do, in case he saw sense. He didn't want to see sense. It was no longer important.

The bridge was just a block or so away. Once he got there, his pain, his suffering would finally end…

Suddenly, Raoul stopped in his tracks, as he heard a scream from an alley across the street. He hesitated, taking another step forward, trying to ignore it. But of course he couldn't.

He ran into the dark alley, only vaguely able to see the silhouette of a woman being mugged. Raoul felt the anger that he already had inside of him bubbling to the surface. He grabbed the collar of the mugger's shirt and flung him into the street. It took a moment for the man to respond to the interruption. Before he could gather his sense and pull out his gun, Raoul had him up against a wall with a sword to his throat.

"_Leave_," Raoul hissed in his ear. "_Now_." He released the man, who quickly scrambled away in fear. Raoul stood still momentarily, before slowly turning to the woman who had been attacked.

"Raoul de Chagny," the dark shape said amusedly. "Sure never thought I'd see you again." Raoul stepped back instinctively.

"Who… do I know you?" he asked curiously. The silhouette stepped forward, and he was greeted by the figure of Meg Giry. She was grinning hugely, and she ran and captured Raoul in an unexpected hug. He awkwardly patted her back.

"Meg, good to see you," he said flatly. She looked up at him, still with the sickeningly happy expression on her face. At least some people in this world still had joy.

"Thanks for… you know… saving me back there," she said. "That happens to me a lot. It doesn't really matter… because I don't have any money anyway… but still. Thanks."

"You're welcome," he said. "It was… nice to see you again." He tipped his hat and turned, eager to continue his mission.

"Wait!" she said, grabbing his arm. "Just one more question."

"Yes?" he said through clenched teeth. Her face suddenly turned solemn.

"I was just wondering… have you seen Christine lately?" she asked hopefully. Raoul felt a thousand knifes stab at his heart. He felt pity for Christine's best friend. She obviously didn't know of her fate.

"Meg, Christine has met her maker," Raoul said lamentably. Meg's eyes widened.

"_What_?" she said, disbelievingly.

"She was killed in the chandelier crash…" Raoul started, unable to go on. Now Meg's expression was one of confusion.

"That's not possible," Meg pointed out. "I've seen her since then… a few months ago at the market." Raoul's head snapped up.

"You've seen Christine?" he asked, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her. "Tell me everything!"

"W-well, I saw her… and she told me she'd been staying with the Phantom of the Opera, you remember him. Yes, and she said that she would come live with me and maman, but the next day, she never showed up when she said she would. That's the last I heard of her." Meg said, her head hanging. Raoul face contorted in rage.

"So he held her captive, then!" he snapped angrily. "Well, that changes everything. I'm going to find her." He started to storm away once again, and once again Meg stopped him.

"Hold on. She's my best friend, and I'm not letting you face him alone," she said, a strange expression appearing on her face. She looked anxious, and also… excited? "I'm going, too. I'm going to rescue my best friend."

Raoul eyed her suspiciously. She said it was for Christine… so why did her face showed an ulterior motive?

۞۞۞

**A/N: Well. Another sort of pointless chapter. I hope my explanation made the last chapter more acceptable… I still kinda hate that I did that. Oh well. Stick around, the next chapter is gonna be really eventful. **

**AND PLEASE REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!**


	7. Jealousy

The Opera Populaire was at large once again.

Christine first knew it had been rebuilt when she had heard the obnoxious squealing of Carlotta's voice for the first time in months. She almost laughed when she heard Erik mumbling irritably about 'lack of talent' and 'disgrace to the beauty of music'. Almost. She hadn't laughed in months.

She sighed. She would have to let Erik know eventually. He was surely becoming suspicious from her lack of energy, and how she was always crying…

She got a hold of herself and stood up. This was it. She was going to tell him today, before it was too late.

"Erik?" she asked gently. He looked up from his music, surprised. Christine took a deep breath. "There's been something… something I've wanted to tell you."

"Yes?" he said softly, as if he didn't want to frighten her. Christine's heart broke at the gentleness of his voice. He was much too kind to her. And once she told him… it would cause him so much pain…

To her humiliation, tears had started to flood down her face again. She quickly covered them up and ran back into her room, sobbing.

"Oh, for God's sake," she cursed herself. She sighed.

Perhaps she wouldn't be telling him today.

۞۞۞

"This place has been rebuilt?" Meg asked questioningly. "I wonder why maman and I weren't asked to come back… then again, I'm sure they didn't know where we were currently residing… I can't wait to tell them! Maman and I will finally have a decent place to stay…"

Raoul ignored her as they walked up into the once again grand staircase into the opera house. She followed him as they snuck through the many hallways as subtly as they could, trying to avoid attention. Meg dragged along, unable to keep still. She had never been so nervous.

"I have a question," she whispered nervously. "Since last time you came down here, you fell into a trap… how do you know the same thing won't happen again?"

"Stay close to the wall, and you won't fall through any trapdoors," he replied simply. She shrugged and followed him down the large winding staircase into the dark cellars below.

They got into the gondola, and Meg was silent as she looked down at her feet.

"Are you alright?" Raoul asked. "You can go back up if you're frightened…" Her head snapped up.

"Not at all," she said. "Just a little… anxious." Raoul nodded and rowed them toward the portcullis, which to Meg's frustration, was closed.

Suddenly, she jumped out of the boat, into the water. She trudged over to the portcullis.

"Christine!" she called. No reply. She looked around, and her breath suddenly caught in her throat as she caught sight of the Phantom, at his organ, staring directly at her.

He stood up and walked over to her, and her heartbeat increased significantly. But the man who walked up to her was not the same confident and controlling man she had seen during Don Juan. In fact, he looked rather pained and confused. His hair was sticking up in numerous places, and he wasn't wearing his mask. She tried not to freak out… and to just look past it.

"Thank God," the Phantom said as he looked at her through the grills of the gate. "Marguerite… maybe you can help her… Christine has been acting very strange…" He looked extremely concerned, and Meg frowned.

"What's wrong with her?" she asked.

"If only I knew…" he said. He looked over her shoulder and scowled. "Though I do rather wish you wouldn't have brought him along."

Raoul jumped from the gondola.

"I demand entrance!" he snapped. The Phantom blinked, unfazed.

"Well I suppose… if you demand…" he replied sarcastically. He pulled the lever and admitted the two.

"Christine!" Meg shouted again. This time, a door opened and she saw her best friend, red-eyed and ragged looking. But her face brightened when she saw her.

"Meg!" she shouted, dragging her feet through the water and capturing her in a tight hug. "What…"

Meg watched her look around confusedly, and then her gaze finally locked on Raoul.

"Raoul," she whispered. She walked up and awkwardly hugged him, a strange expression on her face. She didn't take her eyes off of the Phantom. She looked like nothing could be going worse...which confused Meg even further. Maybe Erik was right, and there was something wrong with Christine.

"Christine, we've come to take you back," Raoul said. "How long has this creature been holding you captive?"

Erik growled and Christine quickly shook her head back and forth.

"No Raoul… he's offered to release me many times," she replied sincerely. "I'm here on my own will." Raoul looked as if he might explode.

"You… you've been staying with this… this _monster_ on your own resolve?" he spluttered. "You'd rather be with him then with me?"

"No, no of course not, Raoul!" she said. "I just…" And Christine started sobbing before she could finish her sentence. Meg grabbed her around the arm and led her out of the cold water concernedly, laying her on the couch. She and Raoul knelt beside her, but the Phantom seemed to be keeping a far distance.

"Christine… it's okay… hush…" Meg cooed. She stroked her hair as she cried harder.

"I wish… you wouldn't have come Meg… to see me like this…" Christine hiccupped. She looked up at Raoul. "I… I love you Raoul. And I'll miss you so much."

A thousand alarms shot through Megs head, and Raoul's face turned white with fear and confusion.

"CHRISTINE, DON'T DIE!" Meg shouted instinctively. She was surprised when Christine stopped crying, and instead started giggling.

"I'm not dying, Meg," she said, her face once again turning solemn. "But I rather wish I was." She took a deep breath and sighed, sitting up and facing the Phantom, who was looking at her with pain and concern.

Suddenly, Christine stood up. And the Phantom seemed to have an epiphany, because all of the sudden he dropped to his knees.

"No… no Christine…" he whispered. "I'm wrong… I'm wrong… I'm imagining things… please…" And he started crying, too.

What in the hell was going on here?

"What's happening?" Meg asked impatiently. Neither answered, but Christine had started to cry again, and Erik remained on his knees, mumbling over and over… "I'm wrong… I'm wrong…"

"What the bloody hell is going on?" Raoul snapped, obviously as confused as Meg was. Christine faced him.

"You'll probably never want to see me again," she mumbled. "So I suppose this is goodbye, Raoul De Chagny."

"Christine! No matter what you say, it will not make me love you less." He replied. Christine sighed.

"Don't say things you do not mean. Raoul…" she said. But she was no longer facing him. She was facing the Phantom.

"I…I'm to have a baby."

There was a long, horrible silence. Well, now it all made sense.

Meg felt a weird feeling go through her body. It was almost… anger? No… maybe not anger… something different. Okay, so she knew exactly what the feeling was.

Jealousy.

No, she didn't know how long she had fawned over the Phantom of the Opera. But the longing was there… it had always been there. And she hated it.

It was sick and terrible. Christine wasn't an honest woman, and she was carrying a child at only eighteen, whose father was a man she didn't even love. Yet Meg was so very disgustingly jealous of her. She wished it was her face the Phantom was looking at with; though he tried to hide it under a mask of pain and self-hatred; _adoration_. She wished that it was her belly which; she had just noticed; was slightly swollen with his unborn child. She just sat there with her mouth agape, not speaking or judging… just staring. Raoul wasn't so prudent.

"_Pardon_?" he snapped menacingly. Christine took a step toward him.

"Raoul… I didn't…" she mumbled.

But she couldn't finish, because Raoul slapped her across the face. Hard.

Many things happened at once. First of all, Christine was shoved out of the way, and Meg caught her before she could fall over. All of the sudden, Raoul was up against the wall, being held at the throat by the Phantom. Christine gasped. Meg still didn't respond to anything.

"_Do not touch her_," the Phantom growled. Raoul's face began to turn blue.

"Erik, stop!" Christine shouted. _Erik_. Meg never knew his name before…

Erik dropped Raoul and kicked him. He stood up and brushed himself off.

"Whore," he spat at Christine. Erik grabbed his shirt collar and thrust him through the doorway.

"To hell with both of you," Raoul said before disappearing. Everyone stood in silence for a moment.

When Erik turned around, his face was red with anger. He looked absolutely menacing.

Suddenly, Christine started dragging Meg through the lake and out the portcullis.

"It's best you go, he's in a foul mood…" she whispered. Meg shook her head back and forth.

"I won't. I won't leave you, Christine," she pleaded. Christine sighed.

"Come back in a week," she said. "I'll be here. But just… _go_."

Meg reluctantly turned and walked away… toward the spiral staircase. When she got there, she saw Raoul at the bottom with his head in his hands. Meg sighed.

"Did you not hear her? She still loves you, Raoul," she told him. He looked up.

"Then why… why would she go and get herself pregnant with another man?" he asked.

"She obviously didn't have a choice," she replied. "He must have forced her into it." Raoul raised an eyebrow.

"Do you really think… well… of course! That must be it!" he said conclusively, laughing. "Why didn't I think of it before?"

Meg just shrugged as they descended up the stairs. Now that Raoul knew there was a chance of Christine still loving him, he'd do whatever he could to get her back. And if she's with him… maybe Erik will be able to move on…

۞۞۞

**A/N: Dang. It was obvious wasn't it? *Grumbles about not being able to write more mysteriously*.**

**Anywhoo… we gots ourselves a nice little love rectangle going on here! Who'll end up with who? Huh, maybe I am a little mysterious…**

**Review ! Pretty please with Erik on top? I love you guys!**


	8. Foreign Fruit

Well. If he wasn't already going to hell, this surely confirmed it.

Why had he been such a fool? Why hadn't he noticed before, put two and two together? Christine's emotional changes… her constant depression…

But then, for that split moment as she stood up… he noticed the slight movement of her hand to her stomach… he knew.

He knew that Christine was carrying a child. Not just _a_ child, but _his _child. A monsters spawn.

And poor Christine would have to endure the demon child… endure seeing not one, but _two_ monstrous faces each day and night…for yes, the child would have his face. He knew it.

Yet, he secretly loved it.

He loved that Christine was carrying his child. He loved that he would soon be a father, and despite how the child looked, he would adore it. He knew he would. He could teach it everything he knew about music. And it… in the back of his mind, Erik silently wished for a son, but yet a daughter would suit him just as well… would be an amazing artist, just like he himself.

He groaned. He was actually enjoying this.

By God. What had he done?

۞۞۞

Christine mustered as much courage as possible as she watched Meg walk away down the cavern, leaving her and Erik alone. She closed her eyes and thought about how all of this had came to be.

A month or so after _that _night… she had started to worry. She had been feeling different… more depressed. She had also been getting sick each morning and throughout the day. She eventually decided a doctor's visit was in order.

She snuck out during the night, so as not to worry Erik. She walked to a doctor that she knew lived very close to the Opera House, for she went there often whenever she lost her voice or needed her feet bandaged.

When she arrived, he took a few tests before telling her the news. At first, she just laughed, thinking that he was joking with her. But she soon found out that he was very serious.

She sat and cried there for about two hours, before he eventually told her she ought to go home. _Home_, she scoffed mentally. If only she had one.

She was a wreck when she returned. And Erik eventually found her… on the floor crying…

She got back to reality when she remembered her current position. She sucked in a deep breath and turned around to face Erik. He was staring at her with pain and pity. She scowled.

"Do not pity me, Erik," she said, catching him off guard. "Do not think that I will regret this child. Of course, this is not what I had planned for myself, but I will love it all the same." Erik looked at her skeptically.

"But what will happen … if it looks…" he started.

"Like you?" She continued. He winced. "Erik… have you not learned by now that your face no longer bothers me? So why would it be any different with my child?" He sighed.

"You don't love me because of my face," he said. "If the child looks like me, you won't love it either." Her eyes flashed dangerously.

"How _dare_ you?" she snapped. "That's the kind of person you think me as? Your face isn't the reason I don't love you." He flinched as if she had hit him.

"Then… why don't you love me, Christine?" he asked. She huffed.

"Do not ask me that question," she mumbled.

There was a long silence.

"I don't understand you Christine," he finally said. "You cannot possibly expect me to help you raise our child, when you don't even care for me. Why didn't you just go with the Vicomte, and raise the child with him?"

"You are wrong in thinking I don't care for you, Erik. I do. Enough that I wouldn't ever leave with your child. I would never hurt you like that," she replied. "It would be wrong to raise one mans child with another."

"But once the child is born…" Erik started, a look of realization in his eyes. "You will leave it with me… and return to him." Christine looked down.

"I had that plan in mind, yes," Christine said. "But I don't know. Only time will tell." Erik's head snapped up.

"_Stop that_," he ordered. Christine jumped in surprise. "Stop getting my hopes up, Christine! Do you have any idea how painful it is to think there _may_ be a chance of you loving someday? But when it never happens, it will only hurt me more." She blinked.

"You're right," she said. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't hurt you like this. It's wrong of me." Christine hadn't thought before of how hard that this must be on him. Was she constantly getting his hopes up and tearing them down? She sighed. Maybe she was the selfish one after all.

More silence.

"I ought to go to sleep," Christine finally said. She started walking, but then stopped and turned back around. "By the way… Raoul is alive. I've never known you to be wrong before. So I must say… I told you so."

And she walked away, feeling quite accomplished.

۞۞۞

Meg had to silently endure a whole week of Raoul, mumbling and planning of ways to win back Christine. Needy much? Come on, it's not as if he couldn't survive a few weeks without her. What was it about Christine men were so obsessed with?

Raoul had invited her and maman to stay at his manor, and Meg quickly took him up on that. Of course, maman refused the hospitality. She insisted they were fine with their current living position. Meg told her to speak for herself.

At the moment, she was sitting cross legged; eating an exotic fruit Raoul told her was called _kumquat_. The thing she most enjoyed about the manor was the _food_. Everything was so different and wonderful… and most of it she couldn't even pronounce. She happily put another piece in her mouth while Raoul scratched furiously on a piece of paper with his quill. Meg rolled her eyes.

"Why don't you just get rid of the baby?" she said simply. He stopped writing and looked up at her.

"Pardon?" he asked.

"She's obviously only staying because she's pregnant with his child," she said, both of them wincing slightly. "But if you somehow see that it's not born… she won't stay with Erik anymore. I mean… she'll come with you." Raoul stared at her for a second.

"That's an awful idea," he said finally. "I'd have to kill Christine to kill the baby, and that wouldn't do any good for me."

"Well, excuse me for trying to be helpful," she mumbled, throwing away the rest of her kumquat and grabbing another fruit. "What's this one?"

"Guava," Raoul mumbled, going back to writing. Meg shrugged, and took a bite. It tasted like juicy heaven. She liked fruit from other countries.

"Wait… what time is it?" she asked. Raoul glared at her and gestured to the large grandfather clock right beside them. She turned and looked at it, seeing it was five o' clock. She jumped up.

"I have to go. Be back later," she said, putting on her coat. Raoul looked at her skeptically.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"To visit Christine," she replied. He gaped at her.

"You're going… down there…?" he asked. Meg nodded.

"Yeah… wanna come?" she asked. He shook his head.

"I couldn't possibly go there," he said. She shrugged.

"Well, I'll be back later," she said. "If you need me… you know where I'll be."

She walked out the door into the cool autumn air. Waiting at the front of the house was Philippe, the carriage driver (A/N: for you who have read Leroux… don't ask why I used that name… It's totally unrelated to Raoul's brother.) She got into the carriage and lay back as they took the short drive to the Opera House.

Once they got there, she got out with anticipation. Walking in, she only stopped to say a quick hello to Richard and Firmin, and explaining that maman could come back to be the ballet instructor, and that they should contact her. As for her, she had decided that maybe being a ballerina was no longer her calling. She could always rejoin if she changed her mind.

She made her way through the dark tunnels, finally arriving at the portcullis, which was open expectantly. Christine seemed to be waiting for her.

"Oh, Meg, I'm sorry, I forgot to put the gondola on the other side," she said, noticing Meg trudging through the water. Meg just shrugged unconcernedly.

"How are you?" Meg asked. Christine shrugged.

"Besides the fact that I'm pregnant, emotional, and can't stop eating? I'm swell," she said sarcastically, but she was smiling. Meg grinned and looked around.

"Where's the daddy?" she asked, trying to seem happy and lighthearted instead of bitter, like she was feeling inside. Christine scowled at how Meg addressed him.

"He's there," she said, gesturing toward the organ, where he sat staring at them. Meg jumped slightly in surprise. She waved awkwardly, and he nodded toward her in reply. "Meg won't hurt you, Erik. You don't have to keep your distance." He didn't reply.

"Is he mad at me?" she whispered to Christine. She chuckled.

"No, he's mad at me for inviting you over," she said, shrugging. Meg looked at her quizzically.

"Why?" she asked. It was Erik who responded.

"Because, I don't think you ought to be involved with this," he said. "Also, you two are awful at whispering."

"Erik, she's just making sure I'm okay," Christine replied. He huffed.

"That's my job," he mumbled.

"And what do you know about pregnant woman?" she asked.

"What does she?" he retorted.

"I used to help the Opera House staff if they were with child," Meg replied.

"Well, why don't you just leave with her, Christine?" Erik said. "She apparently knows everything."

"Stop sulking," she said. "I told you, I'm not leaving." He looked at her, his eyes glimmering.

"I believe you," he said. Meg groaned quietly.

After a while, Erik apparently lost interest in their conversation, and started to play his organ. Meg started to sing along with the song he was playing.

_Think of me, think of me fondly when we've said goodbye_

_Think of me, once in a while please promise me you'll try_

_When you find, that once again you long, to take your heart back and be free_

_If you ever find a moment, spare a thought for me…_

Erik stopped playing abruptly, and Meg blushed.

"I'm sorry…" she started.

"No… I just didn't know you could sing," he said. Meg shrugged.

"I'm nothing compared to Christine," she said modestly. Erik shrugged.

"Good nonetheless," he replied. He began to play again, and she continued to sing.

_Think of me, think of me waiting silent and resigned_

_Image me, trying to hard to put you from my mind_

_Recall those days, look back on all those times, think of the things we'll never do_

_There will never be a day, when I won't think of you!_

She was shocked at the truth behind what she was singing. She couldn't get him out of her mind. When he probably never gave her a second thought.

She sighed. Life was complicated.

۞۞۞

**Hey guys! Whew, long chapter… 2000 words! I'm so proud of myself.**

**Anyway…**

**I just realized something. In the last chapter, even though Raoul and Christine both thought the other dead, when they saw each other… they were just like "hey…". Woops. Just pretend they were more surprised to see each other, kay? Thanks!**

**Anyway, did you like? I for one am very proud of this chapter… don't know why… I just am.**

**Oh yeah, and I recently saw Love Never Dies. If you haven't seen it, don't. It's a disgrace to the Phantom of the Opera. In my opinion anyway.**

**But the soundtrack is good… I suggest you listen to it. Especially "Til I hear you sing" and "Beneath a moonless sky". They be good. Wow, don't I have great grammar?**

**Also, I know Meg talks like really… modern-ly. It's kinda weird… but I just see her talking like that. Oh well.**

**Well, this has been a long authors note. Buh bye now! See you soon!**

**Oh, one more thing.**

**REVIEW! Please?**


	9. Lavender

"Did you know the opera was rebuilt?" Erik asked Christine one evening.

"Well, I assumed so," she replied. "Carlotta's singing isn't exactly ignorable. Why do you ask?" he shifted uncomfortably.

"Well, to celebrate the opening, there's to be a masked ball," he said. "And if you would like to go… well I just thought I'd offer." She raised her eyebrow.

"Erik?" she said slowly, grinning. "Are you asking me to go to the ball with you?" He blushed.

"Well… I just…" he spluttered. "I mean, I assumed if you would go I would go as well… thus us arriving together…" Christine laughed.

"Erik, there's no need to be so nervous," she said. "Sure I'll go. It sounds like fun." Erik blinked.

"Oh," he said. "Well… um… good."

"Dear lord, you're positively red!" she said, laughing harder. "Why were you so afraid to ask me such a silly thing?" he scowled.

"Rejection is a cruel beast," he muttered, causing Christine to stop laughing. She sighed.

"I was just joking, Erik. There's no need to be so sensitive," she said. He shrugged.

"Morning!" they heard a cheery voice say from the portcullis, and Erik groaned. Marguerite had been coming to visit nearly every day now, and quite frankly, he was sick of her.

"Hello Meg," Christine said, nodding in her direction. No longer acknowledging her, she turned back to Erik. "So, when is the ball, anyways?"

"It's…"

"You guys are going to the masquerade? It's tomorrow night," Meg interrupted, causing Erik to grind his teeth in frustration. "We can get our dresses together, Christine! Raoul and I are going too." Christine pursed her lips.

"You and… you and Raoul are going?" she stuttered. She was grinding her teeth together.

"Well yes, he asked me to go. As friends only, of course!" Meg said hastily. "But of course, we won't if it's a problem…"

"No, no. It's perfectly fine," Christine said, calming herself. "I let Raoul go. It no longer concerns me what he does with his life."

Erik groaned at the way Christine reacted to Raoul being with another woman. Could she not get over the boy?

"Well if the ball's tomorrow, we may as well get our dresses now," Christine said, shooting a glance at Erik. "If that's alright." He nodded once.

"If you wish," he said tonelessly. "Be back before nightfall, if you please." She nodded. He looked over at Marguerite, to see her staring at him. She blinked once, and then cleared her throat.

"Goodbye, Erik," she said, smiling. He stared at her strangely.

"Bye," he said stiffly, and her face fell slightly. Why was she looking at him like that?

He groaned. Why was it that whenever he saw that girl, she left him feeling either annoyed, frustrated or immensely confused?

۞۞۞

"Which fabric should I go with… lavender or powder blue?" Meg asked Christine, who was being poked and prodded by the seamstress as her dress was fit. But she didn't reply. She had other matters on her mind.

"So… just out of curiosity… when did Raoul ask you to go to the ball?" Christine asked, trying to seem unconcerned. "I mean, I didn't know you two saw each other on a regular basis."

Meg took a while to reply. She cleared her throat, looked around the room, and smoothed out her skirt.

"Well, um… I sort of… live at his manor now," Meg mumbled finally. Christine closed her eyes and took several deep breaths.

"And why is that?" she asked, once again through clenched teeth. Meg looked at her feet.

"Well you see, maman and I were under rather harsh living conditions," she said. "So, he invited us to stay with him. It's really nothing."

"Oh, so your mother is living there too?" Christine said, slightly relieved.

"Uh… well I mean… not exactly…" she mumbled. "You see, maman live at the Opera House because of her job there…" Christine didn't reply, but tried to hold back her outburst. _Raoul isn't mine… Raoul isn't mine…_

"But honestly, Raoul and I are just friends," Meg said. "I'm not interested in him in that way. At all."

"Well if that's how you feel," Christine said, feeling much better. "But you're free to love whoever you choose. As I said, I no longer have control over what he does." She stepped down and examined her elegant dusty rose colored dress in the mirror.

"You look like a princess, Christine," Meg said. "No wonder Raoul loves you so much." Christine sighed.

"Oh Meg, I'm sure he doesn't love me now. After what I've done to him…" she said sadly.

"You've never been more wrong," Meg replied. "Take this from someone who lives with him, he never stops talking about you! All day and night, he thinks of ways to get you back." Christine perked up slightly.

"Really?" she asked. Meg nodded.

"Really."

She stepped up to get her lavender dress done in excitement.

"I can't wait for the masquerade, Christine, can you?" she asked. Christine smiled.

"No Meg," she said. "I can't wait, either."

۞۞۞

"I got you this," Meg said, throwing a silk lavender tie on Raoul's lap. "That way you'll match my dress. Which is really pretty, by the way. But you're not allowed to see it until tomorrow." Raoul blinked.

"You want me to wear purple?" he asked critically. Meg rolled her eyes.

"It's lavender," she said. "And just trust me. It'll look good." He sighed and set it beside him, going back to reading his book. She sat down beside him.

"So… I learned something today that you may be interested in," she said. He sighed and put his book down.

"What?" he asked. She grinned.

"Guess who's going to the ball tomorrow," she said. "And guess who she's going _with_." Raoul thought for a minute before scowling.

"She's going to the ball with him, eh?" he asked sourly. Meg nodded.

"Yes… but this is a _good_ thing," she said. "You can confront her there; apologize. You should've seen her today, when I told her about us going to the ball, she got red in the face, and then relived again when I told her there was nothing going on between us."

"Really?" he asked anxiously. "Well, perhaps I can earn her love back after all."

"Yes," Meg said, grinning. "The perfect plan."

۞۞۞

**A/N: So? What'd ya think?**

**Okay so guys, I know that it's a little confusing… because I made it hard to tell who's going to end up with who in the end. I'll give you a hint. See if this helps you sleep better at night.**

**1. I love Erik with an intense passion deep within my soul.**

**2. I like Christine a lot. She's definitely my favorite female character.**

**3. I love Meg only in the movie. In the book she's weird…and I absolutely hate her in Love Never Dies.**

**4. I hate Raoul. I hate him even more then I love Erik. And that's saying something.**

**Does that maybe help a little bit? No? Too bad.**

**Please review! And to encourage you more… here's the question of the day.**

**QOTD: Who's your favorite Phantom?**

**My answer: Ramin Karimloo. I love that man.**


	10. Masquerade

"Christine, have you died in there?" Erik called into her room, impatiently tapping his foot. Women took a ridiculously long amount of time to get ready.

"Almost finished," Christine called, and a few minutes later she opened the door and walked out into the lair.

Erik stared at her in awe. She was positively gorgeous, of course. But this was not a surprise to him, for in his eyes, no matter what she did with her hair or what dress she wore, she was the most beautiful creature to walk the earth.

"It's… not too extravagant," she said, blushing slightly at the way he was looking at her.

"It's wonderful," Erik replied simply. Christine smiled shyly.

"Well, you yourself look rather nice," Christine said. Erik scoffed, but otherwise took no notice that she said anything. "Well, shall we go?"

Erik looked at her for a minute.

"You're not wearing a mask," he observed. He was of course wearing one himself, which was black and white and covered almost his entire face, with the exception of his nose and mouth. "It _is_ a masquerade." Christine shrugged.

"I don't have a mask," she said. Erik raised his eyebrows.

"And why would you think that I, of all people, wouldn't have one up for lend?" he asked. She shook her head.

"No, I couldn't…" she started, but Erik had already left the room and went behind a red drape. When he returned, he was holding a beautiful white mask that only went around the eyes, with a large ribbon rose on the side. "Erik… it's beautiful. Where did you get it?" Christine asked, reaching out for it. He laid it gently in her hands.

"I came across it in Persia," he said, not going any further into the story. Christine placed it gently on her face. Erik smiled and held out his arm, which she grabbed. They walked together into the gondola, and toward the world above that they so rarely visited.

۞۞۞

"Raoul, help me tie this, will you?" Meg asked, trying to fasten the lavender silk strings of her dress around her neck. Raoul came over and laced it up for her. She smiled. "Thanks." He nodded in reply. She spun around, admiring her dress in the large mirror. He had to admit, she did look rather pretty. As for himself… well, he was really not warming up to the purple tie.

"Must I wear this?" he groaned. Meg grinned.

"Yes. You must," she said. He glared at her, and she grabbed his arm and dragged him out to the carriage. "Oh, don't look so depressed. This is going to be fun! And after all, wasn't it _you_ who invited _me_, Mr. De Chagny?"

"Yes, I did. And I am rather regretting that decision," he said. Meg rolled her eyes.

"You're such a liar," she accused. "I think that somewhere in your cold, uncaring heart, you secretly like me." He looked at her out of the corner of his eye.

"I suppose you're not the worst of company," he admitted. She raised her eyebrows. He grinned. "Fine. You're very… amusing. You certainly make my life a lot more interesting." She laughed.

"I try my best," she said.

The carriage clattered merrily along the road to their destination, the Paris Opera House. Finally, it came to a stop in front of the grand front doors. Meg skipped out happily while Raoul trudged anxiously behind, constantly looking over his shoulder for the guests he both awaited and dreaded.

"Raoul, this place is titanic. They could be anywhere, so if you'd just calm down, we'll look for them," Meg snapped, noticing his constant apprehension. He looked at her and nodded.

"Okay," he said. Meg made to walk away, but he grabbed her shoulder. "Hold on, perhaps we should have a bit of fun before we find them, in which time we will only find ourselves stressed and annoyed. Do you dance, mademoiselle Giry?" Meg blinked unexpectedly, but then grinned.

"Well monsieur, in case you have forgotten, I am, in fact, a dancer," she replied. He smiled and held out his hand, and they danced gracefully and gaily, and for the first time, their minds were completely clear of a certain phantom and the singer that held his heart.

۞۞۞

"This is wonderful!" Christine exclaimed as they entered the grand ballroom. Erik smiled, glad for her happiness, and led her to the middle of the floor.

"Would you like to sing?" Erik asked her. "I can request a song from the orchestra." Christine thought for a moment.

"Actually, I think I would rather like hear you sing," she said. He blinked in surprise, but then nodded at her request.

"There is in fact a song that I've been wanting to share with you," he said, kissing her hand softly and them leaving her momentarily. She stood alone in the middle of the floor, and soon the sweet violins started playing a melody unknown to her.

_Gentle touch,_

_A nervous look,_

_The smell of flowers in her hair._

She heard his seraphic voice, even though she couldn't actually see him.

_Her fervent smile,_

_That subtle lust, _

_How could a man resist?_

She suddenly felt his breath in her ear and his hands around her waist. He turned her around, leading them in a graceful dance.

_Trapped in a world, where passion devours your senses._

_Trapped in her mind, and I can't penetrate those defenses._

_She's married, forget her, the girl's not yours._

_Her head controls her heart._

_Reason hounds my mind. _

_Some women tease never give._

_So should I take a hint when my heart yearns to live?_

She closed her eyes, indulging herself completely in the music. His marvelous tenor vibrated in her ears, and though she'd always known of his undeniable talent, she had never before heard him sing like this.

_Deep in a dream, my fingers caressing that body._

_Locked in a kiss, her breathless elation within me._

_You crave her, won't leave her, protect and care,_

_But then her heart's not yours! _

_Not yours! _

Christine unconsciously drifted her hand over his heart, as if to protect it from the pain he was describing.

_Bad guys never win, never belong with the girl._

_So maybe I'm not bad, a destiny waits to unfurl!_

_He that's so fierce, his obsessive desire for perfection,_

_She bears this too, our friendship ignites that connection._

Christine opened her eyes, tears spilling over quietly, like pearls on her ivory skin. Erik wiped them away with his thumbs. Christine opened her mouth, and with all of the power she could muster, melodically sang out the next verse.

_This proves it my angel, consume my soul!_

_Our hearts must take control! _

_Control!_

She held the last note, and it rang around the building. The music quieted and became much softer. Erik continued his song.

_Sensual touch,_

_Adoring looks,_

_Her smell of beauty floods my soul. _

_Deep embrace,_

_Two bodies join, _

_Take me, our hearts must take control. _

After the final note, it seemed as if the entire building became still. Christine looked up at Erik with tear-filled eyes, swallowing hard.

"I'm doing it again," she whispered. Erik blinked, and she continued, "I'm breaking your heart again." Erik smiled slightly.

"I've learned to get used to it," he said quietly. "There is never a moment in time that you're not breaking my heart." Christine put her head down ashamedly.

"Great song guys. Really," they heard a voice say behind them. They both turned around and saw Meg standing there, arms crossed, with an ersatz smile plastered across her face. Christine quickly removed herself from Erik, brushing herself off. Raoul was standing behind Meg with a hand on her shoulder, glaring at the two of them.

"Thank you," Christine said quietly. She looked beside her at Erik, and he was glaring back at them as well. Christine cleared her throat and walked up to Meg.

"You look marvelous, Meg," Christine said. Meg smiled, genuinely this time.

"Why thank you! You do too, of course," she said. Christine looked at Raoul.

"You look very nice too," she said. Raoul's face didn't change at all, and Christine rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly.

"Oh yes, the purple is very masculine, my dear Vicomte," Erik sneered. Suddenly, Raoul was being held back by both girls as he attempted to charge at Erik. He just laughed heartlessly at his sad attempts.

"Let him go," Erik said, pulling out his sword. "We shall fight like men. You are a man, are you not Vicomte?"

Raoul growled and pushed past Meg and Christine, pulling out his sword as well.

"No! Raoul, stop!" Meg shouted, pulling him back. "This is foolish; you're behaving like a child!" Raoul glared at her, but then slowly backed up and put his sword away.

"You're defending him too," he stated thickly. He closed his eyes momentarily, before turning around and walking away. Christine stayed and looked at both Erik and Meg, before following.

There was a silence. Erik still held his sword, his eyes glazed with confusion and sorrow. The sword slowly dropped from his hand, clattering to the ground. And Meg then saw it. The red gash, clearly visible across his stomach.

Erik fell to the ground.

۞۞۞

**A/N: HEY-O! Sorry for the long update. I've been grounded =P. But I'm back! You're welcome.**

**Okay. So if you want to see what the dresses and masks looked like, check my profile. I'll be posting the links shortly.**

**All right, so the song is called **_**Our Hearts Must Take Control**_**, and it is sung by my favorite Phantom himself, Mr. Ramin Karimloo. Some of the lyrics may be wrong, because I couldn't find them anywhere, so I wrote them down myself. Ugh, the things I do for you people… **

**Anywho, the link is…**

**http colon slash slashwww dot youtube dot com slash watch question mark v equals GiRNWkLLrxw**

…**Yeah. I hope you can figure that out. If not… just search it on Youtube. Sorry it's not the whole song… I can't find it ANYWHERE…**

**Okay. Well. BYE!**

**QOTD: Do you like butterflies of fireflies better?**

**My Answer: Butterflies. All. The. Way.**


	11. Pain

"Raoul!" Christine caught up with him, grabbing his shoulder. "I need to talk to you." His eyes jerked around quickly and he nodded.

"Yes but… let's go on the roof," he said. "It's quieter." She nodded and the walked up the many staircases to the rooftop. Once they got there, she pulled her cloak tightly around herself in the chilly march air.

She sat down on the edge of the building, sighing. He remained standing, staring at her.

"I was a fool," he finally said. "She convinced me to keep trying, but I should've known it was a lost cause." Christine stared at him blankly.

"Who…"

"Meg, that's who!" Raoul snapped suddenly. "Why is she even tangled up in this mess? The girl needs to mind her own business and… go away." Christine blinked.

"And what did Meg do?" she asked.

"She told me… that you still loved me," he said. "But I can't blame her, I shouldn't have listened. I shouldn't have hoped…"

They were quiet for quite some time.

"I made a mistake, Raoul," she said. He nodded.

"Yes. A very large one," he replied. She looked down.

"But what's done is done," she said. "I can't leave him. Not while I'm carrying his child. No matter how much I may… love you…" she choked up at the last sentence. He groaned.

"Why did you do it Christine?" he asked. She sighed.

"Pity," she said simply. More silence.

"So this is it? You're never coming back to me?" Raoul asked, dreading the answer. She sighed.

"Erik can't raise a baby by himself," she said. "I'll come back to you, Raoul. But only if I can find a home for it."

"And if you can't?" he asked. "You'll live down there, have a family with _him_?"

"I have to," she said. "I cannot simply abandon my child, unless I know it's with a good home." Raoul grabbed her hands.

"Fine. But if you do; if it finds a good home… we will be married?" he asked hopefully. She smiled slightly.

"Yes, Raoul, we will be married." She said. Her smile slowly faded, and she sighed. "But please, you mustn't get your hopes up. If the child inherits Erik's face… well… there is a small possibility of anyone wanting it." Raoul sighed.

"I love you, Christine. And I will wait for you," he said. He wiped a single tear from Christine's cheek and stood up. He checked his watch, before grabbing Christine's hand. "Well, shall we return? I'm sure your _abductor_ will be looking for you."

0….0….0

"Erik!" Meg said, pulling him up from the ground. His eyes were glazed over and he was breathing heavily.

"Christine…" he gasped. Meg shook him slightly.

"Erik, what happened?" she asked. He blinked.

"Someone came… behind me…" he said, his eyes starting to roll around in his head. Meg took deep, steadying breaths.

"It's okay, it's okay, a little help please!" she said, attempting to remain calm. Suddenly, the crowd of people quietly surrounding them started taking and shouting amongst themselves. Many people pushed forward to help, but one man made it there first.

"Come, I'll drive you to a doctor," he said. Together, he and Meg, dragging Erik, made for the exit. But Erik stopped them.

"Christine," he groaned. "Get Christine." Meg felt that strange heart clenching sensation that she got whenever Erik talked about her. She sighed.

"Fine," she said thickly. "Take him to the carriage. I'll be right there." The man's eyes widened.

"We can't waste any more time… he'll bleed to death!" he exclaimed. Meg thought for a minute. Finally, she ripped off the hem of her dress and wrapped it around Erik's waist, to stop the blood flow.

"Take him to the carriage," she repeated. "I won't take long." And she pushed through the crowd, looking for Christine.

After looking for a few minutes, she eventually saw Christine and Raoul, walking down the main staircase. She ran up to her.

"Christine!" she said. "Come on, Erik's hurt, he needs you to come with him." Christine's eyes widened.

"What? What happened?" she asked. Meg grabbed her hand and pulled her.

"He was slashed in the stomach from behind," she replied. "He needs to see a doctor. He should be right out here waiting."

Sure enough, when they got outside, a carriage was waiting right at the door. Christine opened the door and jumped inside.

"Erik?" she whispered. His eyes fluttered open.

"Christine…" he said. "I… I love you." She laughed without joy.

"I know you do," she said. "You tell me everyday."

"Well, just in case. I may not be able to tell you again," he gasped. Christine let out a sob and grabbed his hand.

"Don't talk like that. You'll be okay," she said. She looked back at Meg and Raoul. "I think it best you stay here."

"No! I'm going!" Meg retorted. Christine smiled.

"You need to keep Raoul company," she said. "It would most certainly not be a good idea for him to come. Don't worry, Erik will be fine." She shut the carriage door, and Meg watched sourly as they trotted off.

0….0….0

"I don't understand why you care so much about whether he's okay or not," Raoul said irritably in the carriage on the ride back. Meg pulled her knees up to her chest and ignored him.

"That was a cowardice thing you did, Raoul," she accused. He glanced at her.

"I don't have a clue what you're going on about," he said defensively. She sighed.

"You did it. You cut Erik open from behind," she said. "I know you did."

"With Christine as my witness, I was with her the entire time," he said. "I couldn't have done it."

"No, but you could've hired somebody else to do the dirty work for you. More cowardice still," she said. The carriage clattered to a stop in front of the manor. They walked out.

"Meg. You must understand," he said. "You don't know how it feels to love like I love Christine. I would do anything for her. I would kill for her."

"So you did do it!" she said. He didn't reply. They were silent for a moment.

"Why did you fetch Christine to go with him?" he asked.

"He asked me too," she replied simply. He scowled.

"Are you trying to help me win Christine or not?" he asked. "Because sometimes it seems as if you're prying us further apart."

"Of course I'm trying to help you!" she said. He furrowed his brow questioningly.

"But maybe your plan all along is to get Christine to fall in love with _him_!" he said. "That way you get me and my wealth!" Meg gasped.

"How dare you, Raoul! There is nothing I would want less!" she said. "Trust me, I would like nothing more then to have Christine away from him for good!"

"But _why_?" he snapped. "What is it that you're gaining from this?"

"Oh, you're such an idiot!" she said, sitting down and putting her head in her hands. She was quiet for a moment.

"I love him," she said, revealing this not only to Raoul for the first time, but also to herself. "I'll be damned. I love him." Raoul stared at her with a look of horror.

After a while, he cursed loudly and stormed into his room, slamming the door shut.

0….0….0

**Ugh, sorry for the long update, guys. I wrote this, didn't like it, deleted it, and did that again about three more times. But it's finally done! You like? Stupid stupid Meg should just go away…**

**Oh, and in case you haven't checked yet, the dress and mask pics are up on my profile. Check them out!**

**Please review!**

**QOTD: Movie or musical?**

**My answer: Hmm… well… they're pretty much the same… but the movie has Gerard as an extra bonus… so I'll say movie.**


	12. Revelations

The next few weeks were full of avoidance and resentment.

Meg and Raoul barely spoke a word to each other, and when they did, well… they weren't particularly nice ones. Meg honestly didn't understand why he was so bitter. She knew he and Erik weren't exactly friends, but it wasn't as if her being in love with him affected Raoul's life in any way.

"I need to talk to you," she said one day, inviting herself into his room. He continued reading his book.

"There's nothing more to say," he said in a monotone. Meg walked over and pulled the book out of his hand.

"There is _much_ more to say," Meg demanded. "Because you're still angry and avoiding me, and I'm not even particularly sure why that is!" He glared at her.

"How can you _not_ know?" he snapped. "I care about you, Meg, and how do you think _I_ feel about you being in love with _him_? I absolutely despise the man! And more than that, he's a murderer! A kidnapper! He's simply mad!" Meg blinked and stared at him.

"I don't know what you want me to say," she pleaded. "Wouldn't you stop loving Christine if you had the option? Stop the heartache? But you _can't_, Raoul! You can't _choose_ who you love, and I'm no different!" He sighed and considered momentarily.

"You're right," he said finally. "And it's not particularly _you_ that I'm angry at. It's _him_. First he took Christine from me, now he's taking you, too."

Meg didn't say anything, frozen with shock. Did he just put her and Christine, a woman he was hopelessly in love with, in the same category? She sighed as she realized something. Over the last few weeks, she and Raoul had become close. She lived in his house; she went to the ball with him… they had a connection that they couldn't deny. And she didn't want to ruin it over Erik, who had absolutely no interest in her, anyway.

"Fine," Meg said slowly. "Consider it over. I'll… I'll forget about Erik. I know you've suffered enough loss from him already." Of course this was a lie. But Raoul didn't need to know that.

"Really?" he asked, looking at her inquisitively. She nodded with pursed lips.

If only it was that easy.

۞۞۞

"Can I go in now?" Christine said, quickly standing when the doctor exited the room. He nodded.

"Yes, he's doing just fine," he replied. "I have sterilized, stitched, and wrapped the wound. You'll only need to change the wrappings once a week, and he should be well in no time." Christine nodded, and eagerly pushed past him into the warm little cottage room where Erik resided. He was sitting up in his bed, crossing his arms and looking extremely annoyed.

"Erik," Christine breathed, running over and taking him into a hug. He stiffened in surprise. "You're okay."

"Yes, of course I am," he said irritably. "This whole ordeal was rather unnecessary; I've suffered much greater wounds in the past without the aid of a doctor." Christine rolled her eyes.

"You don't have to be strong, Erik," she said, taking his hand. "You were badly hurt… you would've bled to death if it weren't for Meg."

"Marguerite?" he said questioningly. Christine nodded.

"She ripped off the hem of her dress and wrapped it around you to stop the bleeding," she said. "If it wasn't for her, you very well would've died." He blinked thoughtfully, but otherwise ignored this.

"Can we leave now, then?" he asked hopefully. She smiled.

"I suppose," she said. "But be careful… here." She helped him out of bed carefully. He rolled his eyes and shrugged her off when she attempted to aid him in walking.

"I'm not a cripple," he informed, straightening up dignifiedly and walking outside. Christine followed cautiously behind.

After a long carriage ride of Christine squealing and asking if Erik was okay every time they hit the smallest of bumps, they arrived back at the Opera Populaire. Erik exhaustedly sat down once they arrived. He looked up to see Christine, standing and staring at him.

"Erik, that was absolutely terrifying," she said. "Do you have any idea how hard it was, sitting out there while they worked on you… thinking that any minute… they could come out and declare you dead?" Her lip was trembling. Erik chuckled slightly, grabbing her hand and sitting her down next to him.

"Once again, you underestimate me," he stated. "I'm stronger than you may think." Christine looked up and smiled.

"You're right. I'm overreacting," she said. "But if you'd have died… Erik, I don't know what I would've done." He was quite for a moment, considering what she just said.

"I'd think it would make your life much easier," he replied, carefully trying to pry some kind of response from her. She sighed heavily.

"I'd think it would, too," she said. "But I realized something tonight, Erik. If you were gone, I'd have lost a part of me." She held his hand. His breath caught in his throat. He stroked her cheek.

"Before I met you, I had no reason in life… no happiness… no desire to live," he said. "But in a way, you saved me, Christine. Each day I fight for you and you alone. You're my only reason for living." She smiled and looked up at him. They shared a few moments of tender silence. She snuggled against him.

"Something's different, as of now," she said. "A feeling, it's different. I almost experienced a world without you. And I realized that, I don't want to live in that world." Erik looked down at her.

"_Je t'aime puis la vie_," Erik said in fluent French (translations in authors note). "You know that." Christine smiled and nodded. Suddenly, her smile faded and she looked at him intently.

"_Embrassez-moi, mon ange_," she whispered. Her looked at her in surprise. But her face showed every sign that she was serious. He opened his mouth as to speak, but then decided better of it. Christine placed her hand on his face, slowly moving toward him…

"Stop," he said suddenly. She looked at him in shock of the rejection. "Christine, I can think of many accounts where we have been in this same situation, all of which ended with you not actually caring for me. How do I know this time is any different?" Christine looked thoughtful.

"What've I to gain?" she asked. He shrugged.

"What had you to gain last time? On that night…" he trailed off. Christine looked down at her lap.

"You're right," she said. "I was a fool that night. I can only imagine how you felt, when the next morning I told you to forget it ever happened. I'm sorry I did that to you."

"And how do I know you won't do it again?" he asked. "I'm not strong enough, Christine. I need to know what you're saying is true." Christine grabbed his face and turned him to look her in the eye.

"You're my angel, Erik," she said. "You've done so much for me. You taught me to sing… and that has brought a connection between us that Raoul will never understand. Our love of music. And more than that, you've loved me more than I thought humanly possible. I know you'd do anything for me, Erik, and I don't know what I've ever done to deserve it." He smiled.

"_Even if love is full of thorns, I'd still embrace it for I know that in between those thorns, there is a rose that's worth all the pain_," He recited. Christine looked up at him and smiled.

"I love you," she said, as if noticing it herself for the first time. Erik smiled.

"I know," he said. "I knew you someday would." Christine leaned up and gently pressed her lips against his. She then leaned against him, placing her hand on his stomach.

"Are you in pain?" she asked. He smiled down at her.

"I was," he said. "I'm not anymore."

۞۞۞

**Translations: **

_**Je t'aime puis la vie **_**means **_**I love you more than life**_**.**

_**Embrassez-moi, mon ange **_**means**_** Kiss me, my angel.**_

**So did you guys like it? Christine and Erik are finally together! But everything isn't fine and dandy… there's still Meg and Raoul to worry about…**

**Well… this story's almost over! Audience: Awwww.**

**Oh, never fear my friends. For after this, I'll be writing something new! I already have a few ideas… I'll tell you bout 'm after the last chapter.**

**Also, if you check my profile… I posted a picture that I made for this story. Nothing special… I like it though =).**

**Okay, well I've been getting not many reviews lately. So I'll put up a small price… how about five reviews? After five I'll post the next chap.**

**Well, bye guys! *kisses***

**QOTD (btw… I put these up so that you guys can **_**answer them**_**): Favorite musical?**

**My answer: Hmm. Take a wild guess.**


	13. Mad With Love

"No. I absolutely refuse," Meg retorted, turning her head away in disgust. Raoul was grinning widely, trying as hard as he could not to laugh.

"Just eat it. It took Valetta hours to finish it," he choked out. "It's good." Meg winced.

"Say whatever you wish," Meg retorted, turning slightly green. "I'm not eating these worm thingies."

"Silk worm grub," Raoul corrected, amusing himself at the look on her face. "They're a delicacy in Korea."

"Well I'm not Korean!" she said, jumping up from the table. "I've eaten a lot of strange things since I've gotten here, but _worms_ are where I draw the line. Don't you ever eat normal food?" Unable to contain it any longer, he burst out laughing. Meg groaned and left the room.

"Check if the post arrived, will you?" Raoul called out to her. Meg cleared her throat loudly. "Please?" She smiled.

"Sure thing," she said. She walked out onto the porch, and saw that there was one letter waiting. "We got a… wedding invitation."

She opened the letter inquisitively, wondering who could possibly be getting married. After reading through the invitation, her breath caught in her throat and she dropped it.

"Who's getting married?" Raoul asked, walking out. Meg couldn't answer; she just opened her mouth and closed it again. "Meg?"

"When did this… I just don't… understand…" she stuttered. She looked up at Raoul with wide eyes. "Please don't get too angry."

Raoul suddenly caught on. At first he didn't speak, just stood there with a dumbfounded expression on his face. Then suddenly, a fire burned in his eyes.

"That lying little… she told me she loved me only two days ago!" Raoul ranted angrily. "I hate her! _I hate her_! How could she do this? I don't understand!" Meg calmingly put her hand on his arm.

"Don't say something you'll regret later," she said. "It's… their decision."

"But, you love him! How are you not _furious_?" he shouted. Meg sniffed and turned away from him, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. Was she honestly _crying_?

"First of all, I do _not_ need you yelling at me. _I_ didn't do anything," she choked out. "And I'm not as furious as you because… Erik never loved me, and I though I tried not to think about it, I knew that he never would." She wiped her eyes more, choking back her quiet sobs. She heard Raoul sigh behind her and place a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he said, not knowing what else to say. She just nodded. After some time, Meg took a few deep breaths and turned around.

"Well, I think I'll be going to bed," she said, her cheeks slightly red with embarrassment. Raoul just nodded, and watched her retreating figure.

This would not stand. He would do _something_ about that accursed phantom. And he had a plan.

۞۞۞

Meg awoke with a start in the middle of the night, having heard a noise outside her room. She looked at her wall clock. It was just after two o' clock in the morning. Who on earth was awake at this hour? She got out of bed, slipped a robe on over her nightdress, and pulled her hair up into a loose bun.

"Raoul…?" she whispered curiously as she stepped outside of her room. No one was there. She quietly slipped down the spiral staircase, entering the ballroom. "Raoul!"

He was standing in front of the large front doors, grabbing the handle and preparing to go out into the heavy rain. He turned around quickly.

"Go to bed," he demanded flatly. Meg gaped at him.

"And where do you think you're going?" she asked worriedly. He ignored her and opened the doors, stepping into the rain. She ran out after him. "Raoul! Answer me!" He just continued walking toward his carriage, waiting for him on the side of the road. Just before getting in, he turned around.

"I'm doing this for you," he said. "I don't know why this happened, but it's causing us too much pain for me to allow it to go on."

"What are you talking about… Raoul, what's going on?" she asked, becoming rapidly concerned. Raoul suddenly grinned evilly, a fire burning in his eyes.

"I'm gonna kill him," he said simply. And Meg looked down to see the silver flash of the gun on his pants. Her eyes widened in panic.

"You're…you're joking, right?" she begged frantically. "Raoul?"

He just turned around and jumped in the carriage, quickly galloping away. Meg stared for a moment in shock, before running as fast as she could toward the retreating carriage.

"_Raoul_!" She called over and over again, running until her legs ached. Eventually, she tripped and landed on the slightly flooded cobblestone street.

_Raoul is many things, but he's not a murderer,_ she convinced herself. _He's not._

۞۞۞

"Erik?" Christine asked nervously as she heard a banging noise outside. "What's…?" She stepped cautiously out of her bedroom. She stopped swiftly in the doorway at the sight.

Raoul was standing there in their kitchen; how and when he got there she did not know. And she didn't care, because all she could think about was the gun in his hand, pointed directly at her fiancé, who was simply standing there with a look of pure loathing on his face. She gaped; rubbing her eyes to make sure this was real, and not some sick, twisted nightmare.

"Oh, how nice of you to join us," Raoul said, not turning his gaze from Erik. "If you'll take a seat, we have some things to discuss."

"Leave her out of this," Erik growled. Christine, too shocked to respond, swiftly took a seat beside him.

"No can do, sir. You see, there seems to be a slight misunderstanding," Raoul said, turning the gun to Christine. "_You_, my dear, have fooled me for quite a while. See, I seem to recall you telling me merely two days ago that you loved me, and that you wanted to leave this place and marry me." Christine's cheeks burned, and she didn't turn to see Erik's expression.

"Things have changed," she said. "When I saw Erik on his deathbed after the masquerade ball… I realized my love for him. Only him. I apologize for not telling you this in person." Raoul's demanding glance faltered slightly. Erik let out a bemused chuckle.

"Well, it seems you've done us a favor, doesn't it, Vicomte?" Erik asked pointedly. Raoul scowled.

"What are you talking about?" Christine demanded. Erik glanced at Raoul.

"Would you like to explain?" Erik asked him. When he didn't answer, Erik went on to tell the story. "You see, it was to Vicomte here who stabbed me the other night. Not in person, of course, for you and I both saw him leave the ballroom. He _hired_ a cover-up to do it for him. Coward." Christine stared at Raoul in horror.

"Is this true?" she choked. Raoul blinked and gave a swift nod. She whimpered slightly.

"That is beside the point," he snapped, his demanding air back. "The point is that you are a _liar_ Christine Daae, and tonight you have crushed both mine and Meg's heart. I'm strong, I assure you. But Meg isn't, and I'm not sure how she's going to push all of this beside her." Christine and Erik both eyed him as if he was mad.

"What are you talking about?" Erik demanded. The corners of Raoul's mouth twitched.

"Oh, you'll learn soon enough," he insisted. He pointed the gun back at Erik. "Christine, please step aside."

"No," she stated strongly. Erik eyed her.

"Go," he demanded in a tone of authority. She stared at him in horror.

"I won't. I won't leave you," she grabbed his hands, tears starting to leak from her eyes. "He'll kill you."

"I can handle myself," he said. "_Go_." Christine sniffed and kissed him quickly.

"I love you," She whispered quickly before jumping to the side. Raoul cocked the gun, making Christine whimper.

"Even if you kill him, I will _never_ have you, Raoul de Chagny," She spat at him. "Either way, you lose." Raoul shrugged.

"You'll change your mind," he stated matter-of-factly. She gaped at him.

"So this is it? You have me or no one does?" she said through sobs. "I hate you! How can you do this?" He ignored her, slightly pulling back on the trigger.

"Goodbye, Phantom of the Opera," Raoul said.

۞۞۞

"Raoul! Stop! Are you insane?" Meg shrieked as she burst into the low lit room. She was dripping wet, muddy, and her lungs felt like they were about to burst from her chest from all the running she'd done. She used up all of her strength to not fall over. Raoul turned his head toward her.

"This is a _favor_. I'm doing you a _favor_, Meg," Raoul repeated. She glared at him.

"This is absolutely…" she started, but the rest of her sentence was lost and followed by a shriek.

In his moment of weakness, Erik had swiftly pulled a dagger from his cloak, throwing it at Raoul and pinning his shoulder to the nearest wall. He cried out in pain. The arm which was pinned happened to be the one holding the gun, which was automatically fired off.

The shot rang through the lair, and was followed by an eerie silence.

What happened next was a blur. All Meg remembered were all three heads suddenly turning to looks at her, the expression of horror mirrored in each one.

And then there was blood. So much blood. Blood and unbearable pain.

Meg fell to the ground.

۞۞۞

**A/N: Okay, so this was weird. And I know a lot of you are like… What the…**

**First off, I would like to make it clear that I'm **_**not**_** making Raoul a totally cliché crazy-murderer-who-wants-to-kill-Erik-because-Christine-chose-him-of-her-own-free-will type thing. I would never do that. I hate to say it, but I actually kinda like Raoul. All will be explained in the next chapter.**

**I know it was kinda out-there, but did you like it? *looks up at you hopefully*.**

**Well, if not, leave me a review telling me what you didn't like about it. Just please… don't make me cry *grins sheepishly*.**

**One more chapter! *Gasps of horror*. Don't worry. When this is done, I'll still be hard at work… hopefully writing something… better…**

**Well, bye! REVIEW!**

**QOTD: Who should end up with who? (This won't make a difference since I already planned it out… but I just wanna know your opinions.)**

**My answer: I'm not telling you, silly! That would give it away! *Locks lips and throws away the key***


	14. Moving On

Erik was the first to react, as Christine and Raoul were too horrified to move or take action. He ran over and quickly grabbed Meg into his arms.

"Stay here," he commanded. "I'll come get you when the time comes." Christine looked at him with wide eyes.

"Where are you taking her?" she asked in a small voice. Erik looked at her strangely.

"A doctor, so that she can be healed," he said obviously. Christine blushed.

"Oh… yes… of course," she said sheepishly. Raoul groaned.

"Well go then! Do you not see the blood she's loosing!" he shouted frantically. Erik nodded once in farewell as he turned and hurried Meg away.

There was a long, uncomfortable silence.

"Christine…" Raoul muttered. "This knife in my arm isn't exactly comfortable, and I would very much like to not bleed to death." She glanced over at him in surprise; she had completely forgotten the dagger. She slowly made her way toward him and pulled it out of his shoulder. It hadn't exactly pierced it, just mad a thick cut at the top. But it was bleeding quite a lot.

Christine walked over and got a gauze bandage, which she wordlessly wrapped around his wound. She was pursing her lips bitterly.

"I love you, you know," Raoul said. She still didn't reply. "You know I would do anything for you. Yet it isn't enough." She didn't respond until she had finished completely wrapping his arm.

"I loved you too. Until tonight," she said bitterly. He stared at her strangely.

"But, you're marrying _him_," he said pointedly. "How could you love us both, when you've chosen him to be your husband?"

"Because I was having second thoughts!" she snapped. "I love Erik very much, but I loved you too, and I have since I was six! That wasn't something that I could just turn away from. _I hadn't made my decision_, Raoul! But tonight you've made it very clear who is the better man. I am _disgusted_ that you were willing to kill him, just because I didn't choose you!" Raoul looked at her, pain etched in every feature of his face.

Another long silence.

"I don't know what came over me," he admitted. "And I apologize for my actions. But don't be hypocritical. I seem to recall _him_ attempting to murder _me_ for the same reason as I did tonight. He's no better than I am." She sighed.

"You're right," she said. Raoul looked at her hopefully. "But I've put that behind me. Raoul, I've made my decision. I'm marrying Erik." He sighed.

"I suppose I can't change your mind," he said dejectedly. She half smiled and took his hand.

"I'm sorry, Raoul. You'll always be my dearest friend," she said. He nodded, clutching her hand tightly. "But I think your heartbreak will be healed quickly." He glanced at her confusedly.

"What do you mean?" he asked. She grinned knowingly.

"Well, you and Meg seem to be getting along well," she said. He smiled and looked at the floor.

"Oh," he said. "That." She giggled.

"Do you love her?" she asked. He looked up at her with a thoughtful expression on his face.

"I think I might," he said, his smile fading. "But I know for a fact she doesn't feel the same way." Christine raised her eyebrows.

"And how do you know?" she asked.

"Meg is in love with Erik," he said simply. Christine's lips parted slightly.

"_Oh_," she said. "Well, that would explain a lot." Raoul sighed.

"He has the hearts of both of the woman I love," he stated lamentably. Christine rolled her eyes at him.

"I think you've forgotten something," she pointed out. "Not only does he have _my_ heart, but _I_ have _his_. Meg will have to move on eventually. I think you have a good chance." He smiled slightly.

"Thank you," he said. She nodded.

"I just hope she'll be alright…" She said nervously. He silently prayed the same thing.

۞۞۞

Erik watched and waited for Meg to wake up. It had been over an hour since the procedure had been done, shouldn't she be awake be now?

As if reading his mind, her eyes slowly fluttered open. He gently squeezed her arm, so she was aware that he was there. She looked over at him.

"Erik…?" she murmured. "I… where are we?"

"We're at my good friends house; he's a very experienced doctor," he said. Then, slowly, "You were shot… Marguerite." She nodded.

"Yes… I remember," she groaned. "It hurt pretty damn bad, too." Erik chuckled. Meg smiled slightly.

"It's my fault," Erik said guiltily. "I threw the knife at the Vicomte, which is why the gun fired off unintentionally. I almost killed you." Meg rolled her eyes.

"It wasn't your fault. He's gone crazy and threatened to kill you. What were you supposed to do?" she pointed out. "And besides, I'm fine. So don't put yourself down about it." He smiled slightly and sighed. He would have to bring it up sooner or later.

"Did you know… you talk in your sleep?" he asked her. She shuffled nervously.

"Do I?" she asked nervously. "What was I saying?" Erik raised an eyebrow at her.

"I think you know," he said seriously. She blushed.

"Did I tell you that I…" she paused, looking down at her lap. Then she whispered, "That I… um… loved…you?" Erik sighed.

"Yes. You did," he said. She looked at him.

"Sorry," she muttered. He laughed.

"Why are you sorry?" he asked. "I for one am amazed. I haven't been loved by anyone my entire life, and now I have two women who do. I don't understand why."

"But of course… you choose Christine," she said. He smiled sadly and nodded.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I love her. More than anything." Meg smiled and nodded in understanding. Then her smile faded, and she looked at him for a while, not speaking, sort of… observing.

"You know, I've realized something," she said. He cocked his head to the side and waited. "All this time, Christine was caught in this whole romantic love story, and had two men hopelessly in love with her. But I had this… empty void in my life. Because I didn't have anyone. And there was something about you… the _Phantom of the Opera_… I'd heard stories… heard your voice… you were just so… mysterious. And maybe I used you to fill that empty void. I was lonely, and I wanted someone, _anyone_ really. And for some reason, I was drawn to you."

"So… you used me to fill your void," he repeated. "But you… _don't_ love me?" She smiled up at him.

"No… I don't think I do," she said. "Of course, that void is still there. But I think I may know a way to fill it."

There were a few moments of comfortable silence.

"Well, shall I go get the Vicomte and Christine, then?" he asked. She nodded.

"But do me a favor. When you return, would you mind sending just Raoul in?" she asked. "There are a few things we need to discuss."

۞۞۞

**The end!**

***Snigger* not really. Well… kind of.**

**See, I lied. I said this was going to be the last chapter, but I've decided to add an epilogue. So this is kind of the end. But it's not.**

**Anyway, hope you liked it! There's not really much else to say… so see you (for the last time) next chapter!**

**Well… I kinda ran out of QOTD ideas. So… would it be awful of me to put up another price? Hope not… hehe.**

**Price: 10 reviews.**

**Is that unreasonable? *Shrugs*. I guess we'll see.**


	15. New Beginnings

_Erik and Christine planned their wedding for the seventh of June._

_It was held at none other then the Opera Populaire, the place where it all began, and the only life the groom had ever known. It wasn't a large event, and few people attended. Many came because they were friends or relatives of Christine. Other's had seen her perform before hand and appreciated her work, and some have only heard of the famous ingénue, said to have a "voice like an seraph's". But the majority of the people didn't come for Christine._

_Most were curious about who she was getting married to. Many were disapproving of the mysterious masked man, some afraid, but mostly… they were just hounded by curiosity. But he didn't mind. In fact, he mostly ignored the questions and stares._

_But subsequently, just before Christine was due to walk down the aisle, the wedding was postponed, for Christine had very suddenly gone into labor._

_Angela Gustave Daae (A/N: does Erik even have a last name…?) was born on that same day. Her name was chosen by her mother; who claimed it was a reminder of her father, and how he'd always be her angel. She had golden hair like her mothers, and no sign of any deformity. The only thing that made her different then most children was that one of her eyes was emerald green like her fathers, the other as blue as the ocean, just like her mothers. Erik loved her more than life._

_Due to these occurrences, the wedding was moved to a week later, the fourteenth._

_Just before Erik entered the grand ball room, he was affronted by Meg Giry. To wear on the special occasion, she returned the one memory she had of him. His white mask. She then left with Raoul, and neither of them were seen by Erik or Christine again._

_A few months later, Meg and Raoul were married. It was the largest event Paris had even seen, for they both were very fond of grander. It was held in the largest, most expensive ballroom in Paris, and it was as if the entire country arrived. Even the queen was invited._

_After the event, the couple moved away to America, and started a life there. They had three kids, Antoinette (who they called Annie), Felicity, and Raoul Jr. They were very happy with their millions, and there was rarely a time when they thought of Erik or Christine. _

_And so this ends the story of the Opera Ghost. And though they went through hard times, in the end, the horrors they faced came together to form relationships and happy endings._

_A truly beautiful nightmare. _

۞۞۞

**That's a wrap! (I know I said 10 reviews… but I got impatient =) )**

**So this ends Beautiful Nightmare! I hope you guys liked it, I know I had a fun time writing it =)**

**Do you want more? Well too bad. This story's over. Forever. BUUUTTTT… I'll be starting something else almost immediately. Here are my idea's.**

**1. Another Erik & Christine story (This would be kind of hard… cuz I might end up re-using ideas… but if you insist, I'll do it =) )**

**2. An Erik & Meg story**

**3. A "phangirl" story (this would be like… a funny one).**

**Oh yeah! I'll also soon be co-writing a story with Hollybridgetpeppermint, based on her one-shot, "New Years Resolutions of a Phangirl". Check it out! She's commented multiple times on this story, so you can find her there. Our story will be just like her one-shot, but an actual **_**story**_** instead of a list. Interested? If you are, our joint account is called EriksxPosse, and it'll be posted there.**

**So check in guys, cuz I'll have a new, bigger, better story out soon! You guys rule!**

**And so, for the last time, goodbye, my viewers =D**

**QOTD: Which option should I do, 1. 2. Or 3.?**

**My Answer: I would honestly like to do a Raoul & Christine story, (I'm a full blown Raoul groupie now, weird right?) but no one really wants to read that… so oh well =)**

**ADIOS AMIGOS!**

_**Fin**_


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